Changes
by Rose137
Summary: After Dean, Rory needs some time away. A trip to Martha's Vineyard with Emily seems ideal. She may not get the solitude she hopes for, but sometimes you get what you need and not what you want. And sometimes you can't escape at all. Trory.
1. Running

Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls, the characters etc. do not belong to me. 

It was morning. Rory couldn't remember falling asleep but, as she was waking up, apparently she had. For a moment she couldn't work out why she was on the couch, then as she moved she remembered.

Dean.

It wasn't that she felt guilty about what had happened- she didn't think it really mattered to her that he was married so long as the marriage was ending. And she believed him when he said that it was- she couldn't remember him lying to her before. Somehow, though, the fact that Lindsay had answered his phone when she'd called, and her mother's concern had got through to her and she wasn't able to sleep in the bed she'd shared so briefly with him.

If she was honest with herself, it wasn't how she'd wanted her first time to be- or who she'd expected it to be with. When she'd gone out with Dean, she hadn't really had those kind of thoughts about him. She thought it was just because she wasn't ready- but then she'd thought about sex with other guys. Like Jess. She'd been thinking about sex with him even when she was still going out with Dean, yet she'd turned him down when he came back. That had to show how strongly she felt about Dean now. Never mind that she hadn't been sure, before, that she loved him. There hadn't been any doubt in her mind that she'd loved Jess.

When Dean kissed her, she didn't feel the way she felt when Jess kissed her. Or the way she felt that time when Tristan kissed her and she'd run away. She wasn't even sure that she felt as much when Dean kissed her as she did the night that Tristan hadn't kissed her goodbye. But she'd let Dean do so much more than kiss her last night. And now she was alone, not waking up with her lover, not even in her bed, because she'd chosen to sleep with a married man, who couldn't even talk to her on the phone.

Suddenly scared, she wondered what she had done.

She rolled off the couch and into the kitchen, hoping the first coffee of the day would make her feel less cold inside.

"Morning." Lorelai came down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Morning." Rory dropped her head over the coffee machine, hoping her hair would hide her face. She was nineteen years old and somehow her mother's disapproval was still eating at her, no matter how much she convinced herself that Dean was, and always had been, hers.

Lorelai took a deep breath. None of this was how she had pictured her first talks with Rory after her daughter lost her virginity. She might have expected some embarrassment, some awkwardness, but she'd always thought of herself as the supportive mother, non-judgemental and ready to accept whatever path Rory chose. Now she was disappointed. That was new for her, and she didn't like it.

"Rory, honey- I don't know what's going on here but I do know it's going to be complicated. This is a small town and people talk. I can't pretend I think you made a good decision but it happened and we have to deal with it. "

Rory handed her a coffee. She didn't know whether to be angry or not. Her mind was too overloaded to make any kind of decision right now. She didn't know how she felt about anything.

"Rory? Are you ok?"

She nodded. "Yes- I don't know. This is weird for me."

"You and me both kid."

"I'm going to take a shower. We're going to Luke's, right?"

Lorelai managed her first smile of the morning. Even concern for Rory couldn't quite wipe out her happiness at having worked things out with Luke at last.

"What else would we do for breakfast? Don't take too long or I might have to go without you!"

Rory rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom.

She was a little nervous about being out and about in Stars Hollow. Whatever Lorelai said about it being a small town, people couldn't possibly know what she'd done- at least not yet. Rory knew that it was likely Lindsay would suspect something had happened- she'd probably suspected something for a while. But Rory's image was whiter than white, so people wouldn't jump to conclusions and brand her a scarlet woman. Not until there was some evidence, anyway, like an officially broken marriage.

She was almost silent in the diner, just ordering coffee. She missed the looks that were passing between her mother and Luke, and even Lorelai was quiet, trying to work out what her daughter was thinking.

"I brought you a muffin- just in case you change your mind. All that coffee on an empty stomach's not a good idea," Luke said, eyeing both girls in concern. He was really worried when neither of them rose to his baiting about the coffee.

"What's- "he started but Lorelai shook her head at him.

"Thanks Luke" Rory said. He raised his eyebrows at Lorelai and dropped a kiss on her head before retreating to the relative safety of the counter.

Rory picked at her muffin while Lorelai did her best with her breakfast. Every time a shadow passed the window Rory flinched, and when the door opened, she jumped. Fortunately breakfast passed without major interruption and she was able to escape.

"I'm going home," she said, grabbing her coat and trying to exit as quickly as possible.

"I'll come with you," Lorelai said, reaching for her own jacket.

"No- I think the walk will do me good."

In normal circumstances Lorelai would have made a joke about the things that could happen when her daughter was left alone in the house, but this really wasn't the time. Rory needed to figure things out on her own.

Rory was thinking about all the boys there had been in her life- not that there were many. Dean was her first love, before she could even say the words, before she understood what love was. That was why it was right that he still belonged to her, would belong to her despite everything. Then again, had it ever been love if she didn't know what that was when she'd been with him? She'd certainly thought about other guys when she was with him- first Tristan, then Jess. She'd had no doubt that she was in love with Jess. She'd always thought there was meant to be something more than what she felt with Dean- it was sweet and safe and comfortable, but shouldn't it have been more exciting than that?

Well, it wasn't lacking danger and excitement now. Sex with a married man seemed to epitomise both words. There was danger in the unknown and there must have been excitement- she'd have resisted if she'd been able to. Surely.

She was almost home when she heard his voice behind her.

"Rory, wait!"

She turned round, looking at him almost curiously.

"Are you ok?" He was half smiling at her, nervous but eager, the way he'd always been around her.

"Are you still married?" She heard her own words and saw the smile fade. She looked at his wedding ring and wondered again what she'd done.

"Rory, you know what I want....."

She stared at him. "Dean, I don't know what I want. How could I possibly know what you want? And maybe it's not all about what we want- you have commitments and responsibilities." She couldn't bring herself to say wife.

His face hardened. "Rory, I know what I want. I know what I've always wanted. And if you weren't too messed up to work out for yourself what you wanted we wouldn't be in this mess now. Let me know when you do."

He turned and started to walk away, hoping she'd stop him. Instead she started to cry and ran the rest of the way home. Wasn't she supposed to feel closer to him after last night? Why didn't she feel that her life would be incomplete unless she had him in her bed? Why didn't she want him in that way this morning? She tore the sheets from her bed and flung them in the washing machine.

She should have felt loved when she saw him again, even if last night hadn't been perfect. She should have felt that they were invincible together. But she didn't. There was a block between them now, and it wasn't just Lindsay. Sex had changed everything, just not in the way she'd imagined.

Suddenly she felt claustrophobic, not just in the house but at the idea of spending the whole summer in Stars Hollow, with a disapproving mother wrapped up in Luke. She took a deep breath as she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Grandma? May I come and stay with you for a while?" She rushed the words out before she could change her mind, knowing she wasn't thinking entirely clearly but determined to take some action.

"Rory? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just felt like a break after finals before I look for a job."

"Well of course, dear, I'd be delighted, but it won't be Hartford. I'm leaving for Martha's Vineyard tomorrow- it'll be a lovely vacation for you. Have your mother leave you here in the morning."

"Thanks, Grandma. I'll see you then."

"I'll look forward to it."

Rory hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. Running away might not be the most mature decision, but it would give her some time out, and right now it seemed like the only option.

She had forgotten the problems between her grandparents, but her forehead wrinkled as she realised her grandmother had only said she was going to Martha's Vineyard. Rory smiled wryly to herself. The idea of sharing an emotional recovery holiday with Emily, while Lorelai stayed at home with her boyfriend, would have been funny if it hadn't been so disturbing. She poured another coffee and sat down to make a list.

It was a while before Lorelai returned and, in spite of everything, even Rory could see the happiness in her mother's eyes.

"You ok, sweetheart?"

"I saw Dean." Rory knew there was nothing left to hide.

Lorelai took a breath, hoping she would sound in control.

"And? How was that?" Try as she would, she couldn't quite keep the edge out of her voice.

"Pretty awful. I told him I couldn't know what he wanted, and I didn't know what I wanted, so he walked away. I came home and I'm going to Martha's Vineyard with Grandma for a while."

"You're going to hell?"

Rory glared at her. Lorelai laughed. "Ooops. I'm sorry. Wrong choice of words. I haven't reached that level of judgement yet.....wait a moment- isn't Dad going too?"

"I don't think so. She didn't mention him and I kind of forgot to ask."

"This cannot be good. Although - wait- my mother and my daughter nursing broken hearts together- no, it may be funny, but still not good."

Rory glared again. "No, seriously, sweetheart, I think this is the smartest decision you've made in a while. Getting out of town is probably the best thing you could do right now. Not that I won't miss you...."

"You won't! You'll have Luke to play with."

"Mmm. Playing with Luke- how soon are you going?"

"Eeew! Why do you have to say things like that?"

"After the scene I had to deal with last night, you deserve it."

Rory looked sad. "I'm sorry. Nothing was the way I'd planned- not that I'd planned it."

"I know."

Lorelai hugged her daughter. She couldn't admit it, but she was relieved that Rory and Dean weren't exactly an item, whatever it meant for Rory's memories of her first time. Losing her virginity may have been a big deal, but doing it with the wrong guy was definitely not as bad as being trapped with the wrong guy for the rest of her life. Lorelai was fairly sure Dean was the wrong guy, and it wasn't just the wedding ring that made her think so. What was more, i f- and she felt it was a big if- Lindsay and Dean did get divorced, she didn't want Rory involved as the other woman. She was the most innocent mistress Lorelai could imagine. Or maybe that was just what she wanted to believe. 


	2. Dancing With the Past

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls. Author's note: I was really pleased to get my first review- thanks smile1! This is my first fanfic so I'd really like to know what people think.

Rory had never been to her grandparents' house on the Vineyard. It was beautiful, decorated more simply than their Hartford home and much more to Rory's taste. For the first time in days, maybe weeks if she included finals, she felt at peace.

Her grandmother hadn't said much on the journey. She looked tired, even to Rory's own red eyes. She hadn't asked anything about why Rory had suddenly decided to join her. Rory was grateful for what she assumed was justified self-absorption and asked no questions either.

She was looking forward to a quiet evening, hoping that an early night that would bring her sleep, so it surprised her when Emily demanded that she dress to go out for the evening.

"But- I thought- we just got here! Don't you want to take it easy?"

"Nonsense, Rory! We can't just stay home because your grandfather isn't with us! Besides, I promised Angela Brett we'd drop by. She's holding a fundraiser for the children's theater company. Have you met the Bretts, dear? They went to Chilton- but no, they'd all have been a few years ahead of you."

"Grandma, I'm not sure I feel up to a party."

"Now, Rory- I have noticed that you're not quite yourself, but this is not up for discussion. I am going to this event, and you are coming with me. It'll be good for you to meet some of the summer people- you'll be able to spend some time with them. And-" she dropped her voice conspiratorially- "You being there will give them something to talk about besides Richard's rather obvious absence."

Rory realised, as always with her grandmother, that she was fighting a losing battle. This time she didn't have the energy to try. She sighed and started to pull some of the clothes from her case. She hadn't even had a chance to unpack yet. So much for peace and quiet.

All she felt like wearing was black, but in her current exhausted state it drained what little colour was left in her face. Too lethargic to think much about what she'd wear, she settled quickly on a deep blue dress with shoestring straps. It had been her favourite for years- ever since Jess had once told her she looked beautiful in it. No matter how bad she felt, that was a memory that always made her feel good when she was wearing it.

She chose a brighter lipgloss than usual, hoping it would draw attention away from the circles under her eyes. It was all very well being a distraction from her grandmother's situation, but Rory would prefer speculation about her own problems not to be the alternative subject.

For once she could tell that Emily was nervous about the event, aware of the prying eyes that followed them. She hid it well under years of practised,polished politeness.

"Rory, this is Angela. Angela, my granddaughter's staying with me for a while. She's just finished her first year at Yale."

"Very impressive, Rory. You went to Chilton, didn't you?"

Rory dealt with the inevitable small talk and grabbed a glass of water from one of the trays passing by. It wasn't coffee, but it would have to do. As soon as she could, she moved away. It was easy enough to hide in a crowd of people- she could always pretend she was looking for someone, or watching them dancing. She didn't notice Emily appearing beside her again.

"Rory, I think this is someone you already know. Tristan DuGray?"

Rory's jaw dropped- a reaction she wouldn't have believed had any place in reality.

"Tristan? What are you doing here?"

He smiled, and she couldn't help but smile back. Even when he'd been tormenting her, that smile had been hard to resist. As had the eyes- which she noted held something different than they had back then.

"Apparently I'm less of an embarrassment to my family here than in Hartford."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything to say.

"Well, Tristan, what are you waiting for? Ask the girl to dance!" Emily motioned them towards the dance floor, smiling delightedly. Rory suspected she'd been waiting for a moment like this since she'd started Chilton. The fact that Tristan had been sent to military school would have been outweighed by the fact that he was still a DuGray.

"Would you like to?" He held out his hand and cocked his head to the dance floor.

"No- I mean, we don't have to-" She took a step back.

"Rory. Go. Dance." Emily took Rory's glass and waved them away.

"Oh- all right then. If I must." She didn't look at him as she walked onto the dance floor. He had no option but to follow her.

She found a spot near the edge of the floor. "Will this do?"

He nodded and slipped one hand around her waist. Hers fell naturally to his shoulder. He took her other hand, but their palms barely touched.

"I don't think we've done this before," he said, smiling down at her. "Other things maybe, but not dancing." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

She rolled her eyes. "Other things must have been in your dreams, Tristan. Oh, wait- I remember one other thing that made me run away in tears." She smiled up at him impishly.

He leaned his head back and laughed. "I can't believe you reminded me of that. It's taken years of therapy for me to forget. Rory Gilmore- the girl who almost scarred me for life. Do you know how scared I've been ever since when I've kissed a girl?"

"I'm guessing you've got over it. Each and every time," she said dryly.

"That sounds like you're assuming no-one else had the same reaction," he said, teasing. She old spark was back in his eyes. "Are you actually admitting it was good? 'Cause if you need a memory refresher it can be arranged...."

Rory flushed. She would have thought she'd be beyond getting flustered by Tristan, even if seeing him was totally unexpected. "I feel no need to feed your ego. I seem to remember doing so once before when I told you it wasn't running away material."

He smiled again, a little sadness in his eyes as he remembered. The speed of her retreat had been slower, but the result had been the same- she'd left after that conversation too.

"It's nice to know you've finally learnt my name, anyway," she said.

"Yes....._Mary_. It's good to see you again."

He was surprised at the shadow that crossed her face at the sound of the old nickname, and at the way she tensed in his arms. He hadn't meant that to happen, hadn't thought it would annoy her. He just wanted her to remember the spark there had been between them, to remember what he couldn't quite forget. It was almost unconscious: if he'd been thinking, he wouldn't really have expected her still to be a Mary. He just wanted her to remember that she'd been _his_ Mary.

Rory's head dropped as he used the old name. She remembered all its connotations, and the fact that they didn't apply to her anymore. For a few minutes she'd been so surprised by the fact that Tristan was there she'd forgotten all her other problems.

He decided not to question her reaction. If she ran away while they were dancing, it would be a new low for him- one he wasn't quite ready to face just yet.

"So, what are you reading these days?"

The question seemed so unlikely, coming from him, that she smiled.

"I thought Fitzgerald and Hemingway for the summer. _The Great Gatsby_ always seems right for parties like this."

"I know what you mean. It all looks great, but if you scratch the surface it's never quite what it seems."

"Wow- that doesn't sound like the King of Chilton speaking- on so many levels. When did you start reading?"

His smile faded. "Times change, Mary. Times change."

"That they do. But the name's still Rory."

They smiled at each other again. Rory could feel his thumb tracing circles on her hand as he pulled it in closer to his chest. His hand slipped further round her waist as he brought her nearer. They were almost cheek to cheek, would have been if he hadn't been so tall. As it was, his chin rested next to the top of her head. Rory closed her eyes, feeling safe and content for the first time in what seemed like ages.

The music broke and they stepped back from each other a little awkwardly. Tristan ran his hand over his hair, first back, then forward. It was a gesture she remembered from long ago. She wrapped her arms around herself, unconsciously trying to recreate the warmth from his body.

"So, Mr. DuGray, I'd say we do that pretty well." It wasn't meant to be a suggestive line, but his eyes widened in surprise. Hers mirrored them, but the expression was closer to horror.

"Is there anything else you'd like to try? I can think of lots of things we'd do pretty well- _Mary_." Warned by her earlier reaction, he'd been trying not to push it, but he couldn't help it, leaning towards her in the old, familiar way.

She turned away and the light in her eyes was gone.

"Don't, Tristan. Please don't."

"I'm sorry." Curious too, but sorry seemed like the better response, at least for now.

"Let's go get some food." He'd try anything to make her smile again. Fortunately he remembered her weakness. "If we ask real nice, I bet we can find some coffee."

Despite herself, the corners of her mouth turned up.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, addict. I guess not everything changes."

Her coffee addiction wasn't the only thing that hadn't changed- he couldn't believe how glad he was to see her again. It annoyed him that she could still have this ridiculous hold over him, so he tried to tell himself that it was just because she was an old friend and the summer wasn't shaping up to be that exciting. It didn't matter that he'd grown up and away: he was still treated like the sixteen year old boy who brought disgrace upon his family. That was why this was as close to home as he'd got since then. Rory was the best friend he'd had then- although their relationship had been so much more, and so much less, than friendship. He'd missed her. He didn't want to miss her again.

Rory was just glad of a distraction from her life as it currently stood. Sure, she and Tristan had shared some weird moments, but she liked the truce they'd managed before he had to leave. It still seemed to be in place. The old banter made the world seem a little brighter and, despite the 'King of Chilton' routine, he'd always had enough of a dark side to fit with her own at the moment. She hoped she wouldn't have to get into the Dean saga with him. She didn't want to talk about it. She also knew why he'd first called her Mary, and for some reason she didn't want that reputation tarnished in his eyes. She shook her head. Yeah, that made sense. She didn't want Tristan All- Conquering DuGray to know she was no longer a Mary.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, disgusted with herself.

"What's that, Mary? You think I'm unbelievable?"

"Certainly incorrigible." She laughed.

"Big words. Do you want to come sailing with me tomorrow and tell me what they mean?"

"That's a wonderful idea." Emily was passing and had overheard. For once Tristan was grateful to be a DuGray- it would at least give him a head start with Rory's grandmother.

Rory looked discomfited. "But Grandma- I thought we could do something together tomorrow."

"No, Rory- this is your vacation. Go and have fun. I insist!"

Rory had always had difficulty saying no when she was tired. That was what she told herself now, anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said resignedly.

"Good."


	3. Getting Comfortable

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I hope you like this chapter!

Rory toyed with the cellphone in her hand. It was still early- once again she hadn't slept much. She wanted to talk to her mother but was somehow afraid they'd both be lost for words.

"Ridiculous," she muttered to herself.

After all, they didn't function well without each other for any length of time, no matter what else was going on. Moreover, although taking a step back- she didn't like to think of it as running away- was working out well so far, she wanted to know how it looked from home. She wanted to know if her mother had seen Dean and if Luke knew what had happened. She didn't know if hearing any of it would help, but sooner or later she'd have to know. And sooner or later she'd have to make the call.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Rory? How are you? I called the house last night but you were out at some charity thing. Emily doesn't waste any time, does she? And how _is _hell, anyway?"

"Not so bad. It's a nice house. Or at least I think it would be, if I was allowed to spend any time in it."

"Oh. I'm guessing from that there's not a lot of wallowing time allowed?"

"Not so much, no. I think Grandma definitely subscribes to the view that you have to get on with things. As quickly and energetically as possible."

"Sounds about right."

"So, I was wondering and I don't think knowing one way or the other is going to make me feel better but I need to know- have you seen him?" Rory spoke quickly, wanting this part of the conversation to be over.

Lorelai was slower to respond. "Yes. I have seen Dean. With Lindsay."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

Lorelai decided not to mention the one conversation she'd had with Dean, when he'd blamed Rory for the whole fiasco- and for leaving before he got a chance to end things with Lindsay.In Lorelai's opinion, that was the one smart decision Rory had made, and she'd said so. Things had deteriorated after that, and now civility was almost impossible. Of course, it was also a necessity to prevent anyone noticing the change in atmosphere. Lorelai had never been good at hiding her feelings, and this was harder than usual.

"Does Luke know?"

"No. I considered it safer- remember what happened when you and Dean first broke up?"

"That I do. And thank you. But it must be hard for you, not telling him. How are things going, anyway?"

"Mmmm. I know this isn't exactly tactful right now, but things are actually pretty great. I mean, it's a little weird with the whole town watching us, but apart from that...."

She sighed contentedly.

"I'm glad. Any other news?"

"No. Oh, wait- you really need to call Lane and explain what's going on. I didn't know what to say to her."

"Neither did I. I guess I should think of something."

"Yes- much safer than leaving it to her imagination. Although fact in this case may be stranger than fiction. So, what's Mom's big plan for today?"

"I don't know what her plan is for herself, but it seems to involve getting me out of the house for the day."

"What's she sending you out to do? You make it sound like there's some evil agenda. And why does she need you out of the house, anyway? That's something we just shouldn't have to think about."

"Believe me, I'm not. Besides, I think her plan has more to do with me than her."

"Rory, I know it's early, but you're not making any sense. What are you doing today?"

"I have to go sailing."

"Haven't you told her that you're not very good on the water? I've remember taking you rowing on a pond once, not even a lake, and you got seasick. And then you fell in."

"I did not get seasick! You let me eat too much junk. And I was five!"

"Whatever you say. Who's being brave enough to let you in their boat, anyway? Or did Mom force them into it?"

"It wasn't actually Grandma's idea. She just wouldn't let me say no."

"Hmmm. Didn't you tell her you're there because you have to get better at saying no?"

"Not funny. Not helping. And I don't think she'd have listened anyway. She's more likely to send me out all wrapped up with a bow on top of my head."

"Not another blind date."

"Not so much blind as stupid on my part. Remember Tristan?"

"Evil Tristan? Who kissed the girl and made her cry?"

"The very same. But this time there will be no kissing and there will be no dating. Why are you laughing?"

"Honey, it's priceless."

"And I'm hanging up now."

"Rory?"

"Yes?"

"I know this is hard for you at the moment- but be good."

Lorelai hung up, still laughing.

Rory rolled out of bed, shaking her head. Sometimes even she didn't understand her mother's sense of humour.

Exactly on time she was waiting on the dock for Tristan. She was a little shy about appearing in shorts, but for a sailing trip on a day like this there hadn't been much choice. She was clutching a thermos of coffee as well. She didn't think she'd be able to cope with him for an indefinite time without it. It was a pity she was so immune to the caffeine, she thought as she suppressed a yawn. He'd probably be offended if she fell asleep. Even though they were just friends, if that, his ego wouldn't like a sleeping female companion much. At least not in a purely platonic setting.

She sighed. Now she was thinking the way he did. That couldn't be good.

"Hi Mary."

"Hi." If she'd been noticing the way any guy looked, let alone Tristan, she'd have been forced to admit he looked beyond good. His blue T-shirt made his eyes stand out even more than usual.

"Come on."

She followed him onto a small dinghy. "Is this it? Somehow I was expecting the great Tristan DuGray to lead me onto a yacht, kidnap me and take me to the Carribbean or something."

Why had she said that? Apart from the kidnap part, it didn't sound entirely unappealing. Tiredness was clearly making her babble.

He looked at her curiously. "I thought we'd just go to a beach I know near here and chill out for a while. But if you want we can take the yacht and see where we end up....." He let his voice trail away suggestively.

She flushed. "I think by my use of the word 'kidnap' I indicated that it wasn't what I wanted."

He laughed. "Same old Mary- still pretending to be immune to my charm."

She stood up to try and hit him and the dinghy rocked.

"Steady, Mary, steady. Plenty of time to play in the water when we get there."

"I have lifelong immunity! And the name's still Rory!"

"Whatever you say, Mary. Whatever you say."

Lorelai's warnings about the water notwithstanding, Rory enjoyed the trip, at least until they reached the beach Tristan was looking for. It was completely empty,and as they pulled the dinghy out of the water, she glared at him suspiciously.

"Did you have some ulterior motive for bringing me here?"

"Relax, Rory." She was learning that when he used her name, he wasn't teasing. "It's just a place I come when I want some peace. I thought you'd like it, that's all."

There was only warmth in his eyes and she blushed, this time lacking a reason. She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to the new, sometimes improved Tristan yet."

"Only sometimes improved? Mary, I'm hurt." He clutched his heart dramatically and she laughed.

"Yes, the rest of the time you're still the same annoying boy who made my life hell for a while."

"I' m sorry." He ran his hand through his hair in embarrassment. "I can honestly say that was never my intention. At least never my main intention. It only became my intention when it became clear you weren't acquiescing to my original intention."

"Tristan, you're babbling. Perhaps you should avoid a few of those big words- they obviously don't agree with you very well."

There were signs of the old challenge in her eyes, but unlike the old Tristan, he decided to let her have the last word. All the easy banter in the world couldn't erase the slightly lost look in her eyes and, for some unknown reason, he wanted her to trust him to make it all better.

"We can sit over there by the rocks- it's pretty comfortable if you want to read. I'm assuming you brought a book?"

"Clearly, you still know me too well. But what will you do?"

"Believe it or not, I brought a book too." He opened his backpack and pulled out 'The Grapes of Wrath.'

She gaped in mock surprise. "But it doesn't even have any pictures!"

"Quiet, Mary. Sit down and read."

She did as she was told, which he thought must be a first for her, at least with him. Or maybe some of her fight had been lost along with the light in her eyes. Sometimes, when he was teasing her, he could see it there, but mostly she just looked tired. Not very Rory Gilmore- like at all.

She tried to ignore the fact that he was taking off his shirt, but even in her not noticing state, she couldn't help one small, surrreptitious glance sideways. And then she couldn't help but notice. She'd never seen him shirtless before. With his shirt on, she knew he was in good shape, but without it she could see that his military school training had left his body taut and muscled, not bulky, just -

"Rory, can you help with the suntan lotion? I burn really easily."

"Well, there's one thing I never knew about you." She was hoping that talking would stop her blushing.

She rubbed the lotion into his back and shoulders, trying to ignore the feel of the muscles beneath her fingers. This was just- necessary.

"Thanks. Do you need me to do the needful too?"

Needful. Necessary. That's what it was.

"No- I'm good."

He raised his eyebrows. "Rory. I can see you have a bikini top on under your T-shirt. The straps tied round your neck give it away. Now, do you intend keeping the T-shirt on all afternoon and ending up with oh-so-attractive tan lines round your arms, or do you want to take the top off and then we can get on with our reading?"

"Oh. OK."

She was definitely more obedient than she used to be. She took off the T-shirt while he pretended not to look and pulled her hair off her neck so as he could put the lotion on her back. It was his turn to remind himself that this was necessary. She was blushing at his touch and despite himself, he couldn't help but let his fingers linger longer than they should. She didn't seem to be complaining though, as he found himself gently massaging her shoulders. They were tense, but for once he didn't think it was his fault. He drew his hands away when he felt her relax.

"Um- thanks."

"Any time."

They settled into their reading, Rory pouring frequent coffees from her thermos, while he stuck to his nice cool water. He was surprised when he felt her slump against his arm. He looked down, and found that she was asleep. He wouldn't have thought Rory Gilmore would ever be comfortable enough in his company to fall asleep. And he wouldn't have expected the situation to make him happy. She looked so peaceful- he hoped this rest would help to find peace from whatever it was that haunted her eyes.


	4. Progress Interrupted

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews! Glad you like it so far- hope you still do after reading this............

"Rory." She heard a voice from far away and felt a hand shaking her arm. Her eyes snapped open suddenly and she found herself looking into Tristan's, much closer than she'd expected.

She recoiled, apparently horrified.

"You fell asleep," he said, trying not to be disappointed at her reaction.

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to."

He laughed. "It's ok. You looked cute all curled up beside me. It's just not how I pictured it would be the first time you slept with me, Mary."

Reality crept back into her thoughts and his words stung, although she knew he was only teasing, the way he always did.

"I was tired, and you better have enjoyed it, 'cause it's the only time I'll be sleeping with you."

He was surprised at the sharpness of her retort- it wasn't playful, just cold. But he'd seen the way the light in her eyes had flickered and died with his words, even if he didn't understand why, so he bit back the comeback that threatened and raised an eyebrow instead.

"Little grumpy when you wake up, Gilmore?"

She sighed. "I haven't been sleeping much lately. I am sorry."

He wanted to ask why, but sensed that she wouldn't tell him anyway. For once in his life, Tristan DuGray was thinking more about someone else than he was about himself. Even if the curiosity was killing him. The only way he could see round it was to get Rory to spend more time with him and then she might open up. And then maybe she'd let him help with whatever it was that was wrong.

"What you need is to be too tired to do anything but sleep," he told her, taking her backpack from her.

"And how exactly do I do that?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Well, normally I'd say exercise....." He trailed off as she glared at him. He'd meant it innocently, but couldn't blame her if she'd read something else into it.

"Gilmores do not exercise," she said firmly. He tried to hide his smile, relieved that he wasn't being blamed for an innuendo he hadn't even noticed until she'd glared.

"Right. I forgot. Well, then, we just have to keep you so busy that when you go to bed, you're too tired to think."

"We?"

"Yes, you're obviously not doing too well yourself so I feel obligated to help."

"There's one of those big words again, Tristan."

"Plenty more where that came from, Mary."

He helped her back into the boat and was rewarded with a smile. They didn't talk much on the trip back , but the silences didn't seem awkward and he walked her home. There was a note from Emily on the table, saying she'd gone out for dinner with friends.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" She heard the question as she asked it, and it surprised her. Was she really volunteering to spend more time with him? On the other hand, there was no-one else around and she didn't like the idea of spending the evening alone.

He watched as all those thoughts played across her face. He could see that she had somehow confused herself, and smiled.

"Yes, why not? I'd better go home and get changed though. How about I pick you up in an hour? There's a good seafood place not far from here."

"OK."

She went to take a quick shower and change. She had still only half unpacked, and was having difficulty in deciding what to wear. Indecision was one of her new problems- it seemed to have arrived with her depression and, no doubt, wasn't helped by the fear of making more bad choices.

With some effort, she managed to convince herself that wearing the wrong outfit for dinner with Tristan would not cause any lasting damage and forced herself to grab the first jeans and top that came to hand. She pulled her hair back and managed a slick of lipgloss before he arrived at the door. At least the afternoon in the sun had removed some of her pallor and the circles under her eyes weren't so noticeable.

He led her to his car- not the one he'd had at Chilton, she was sure of that, but it looked equally impressive. She didn't care about the make or model, although she registered that it was silver, a two seater, and probably fast. It still fit with the old image, although she wasn't really sure that he still fit with that image himself. She was just grateful that he'd taken charge of this evening and she wouldn't have to think any more for the moment. She almost trusted him now, after spending the afternoon alone with him. If he'd been going to try to make a move on her, he'd already had plenty of opportunity. Obviously the barrier she'd put up was working. Not that she thought he was interested- but that would never have stopped Tristan before if he thought a girl was available.

He was watching her as he drove, trying not to make it obvious. He could see her expression change with her thoughts and wished he could read what she was thinking. She still looked beautiful, he thought, although he saw a fragility that he didn't remember from when he knew her at Chilton.

"I called ahead so our table should be ready ," he told her as he pulled into the parking lot.

"Good." They walked to the door and she felt the warmth of his hand on her back as he guided her through it. It made her feel safe and protected- not words she would ever have imagined using with Tristan. Words she would always have associated with Dean, until now. Not so much Jess-

Why was she comparing them? This was ridiculous. And unhelpful.

"Yes, a table on the deck would be good," Tristan told the hostess and she led them outside.

When they'd ordered, Rory realised she knew very little about what had happened since Tristan left Chilton. She could see the physical changes, the shorter hair, the harder body, but she wondered why there was no blonde on his arm, no host of adoring friends at every turn. She couldn't read his eyes either, but she could see more in them than she remembered from before.

"How was military school?" She asked tentatively, wanting to know, but not wanting to give him an opportunity to ask questions about her. Then again, she reminded herself, Tristan's ego was unlikely to think of such a thing. Asking him questions was safe- it would let him talk about himself and she wouldn't have to talk much at all. They'd both be happy.

He laughed nervously. "I'm not sure how to answer that. Pretty miserable, I guess, is the usual answer- being stuck with guys all the time."

She raised her eyebrows. "I can imagine that was hard for you."

"Actually, it wasn't really. Couldn't have the girl I wanted, so having lots I didn't or none at all didn't make much difference."

He watched that information filter through , hurrying to continue before she could ask anything else.

"Anyway, they kept us really busy- I think that was the plan, so that we had no time to think. Except in the holidays."

"You didn't go home?"

"I came here, with my grandfather, a few times. Going home was pretty much off limits, and I didn't really want to anyway- even if I'd kept in touch with the Chilton crowd, it wouldn't have been the same."

"You wouldn't have been king any more."

It was his turn to blush, something he never did. "Yes, but that wasn't it. I didn't want to be the centre of attention any more. I looked at my family and that was all it was about, you know? Everything I did, them sending me away- everything was for show. I didn't want that any more."

Rory was looking at him in some surprise. "You're making more sense than I thought you would."

"Thanks," he said, giving the word an ironic twist.

"No, really. I wondered why I never heard anything more about you after you left."

He knew he should stop talking but the fact that she'd thought about him at all lured him into another confession.

"Actually, you and Paris were the only people I considered keeping in touch with."

"Really? I'm honoured- I think. I'm not sure I should take that as a compliment, coming from you- I mean to be bracketed with Paris."

"No, it is. Paris and I certainly had our differences, but at least she was real. We had our differences too, but we had something real too- didn't we Mary?"

He was afraid he'd taken the conversation too far, was afraid he was losing his sense of self-preservation in the eyes that were fixed on him, but talking to her like this reminded him that he'd missed her. He'd got over her, he'd had to, but being with her again didn't just remind him of what he'd felt for her. It reminded him he'd never felt it before, or since, that if he wasn't careful, he'd feel it again.

She was watching him, a half-smile playing around her lips. He looked so serious, she wanted to lighten it up a little.

"On second thought, it's probably just as well you didn't write- I'm not sure I could have deciphered the handwriting."

He took the bait and his eyes widened in mock horror. "You wound me, Mary- and anyway there could have been email."

"Could have been," she echoed and smiled again, a little sadly. There were too many could have beens in her life at the moment.

He hadn't asked her anything about herself, was hoping she'd tell him anything she wanted him to know. There were some subjects he thought would be safe, though- and one in particular that he couldn't ignore any longer.

"You didn't go to Harvard, did you, Rory?"

She shook her head. "No, in the end it seemed like Yale was a better option- it was closer to home for one thing."

"Funny how things work out. I went to Harvard."

"No way!"

"Yes- I was always meant to go to Yale but getting a little further from home seemed like a better idea." He didn't tell her that it could also have been because it had crossed his mind that he might run into her: he couldn't tell her because he still didn't want to admit it to himself.

"There's some kind of irony in that." She smiled at him- the first open, unguarded smile he'd seen since he'd met her again.

"What about Paris? Where did she end up?" He could hardly believe he was asking about Paris, but he had a feeling it seemed safer than to continue talking about themselves.

"Oh, she's my roommate." She laughed at the look of shock on his face. "Paris calmed down a little- I was going to say a lot, but I'm not sure that's true. She still has her moments but living with her isn't as scary as you'd think."

He didn't look convinced. "I think living with Paris would be just as scary as I'd think."

Rory laughed again. "You'd be surprised- and believe me, I was."

They chatted on about Paris, even a little about Louise and Madeline. The food was good and so, Rory admitted to herself, was the company. It was easy, comfortable, but his teasing still had that indefinable edge that made her feel- _alive_, she thought. She hadn't felt much of anything lately- alive was a definite improvement.

He was almost mesmerised by her- the vitality he remembered seemed to have returned. Perhaps her rest this afternoon had helped. As they finished the coffee without which her meal wouldn't have been complete, he was trying not to reach over and touch her cheek, knowing it would be a mistake, but having difficulty stopping himself.

They were interrupted by a message on her cellphone. She looked at it and her face fell. The expression was unreadable but he could see that the barriers were back up.

"I'm sorry," she said abruptly. "I just have to-"

She was gone.


	5. Unlikely Assistance

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews! I really appreciate them!

He'd hardly got a chance to stand up before she was gone. And then he was alone again, with nothing to do but think about her. Without her in front of him as the most unlikely distraction from what was going on in his head, he was forced to acknowledge that even after all this time he wanted her. More than he had before, if that was possible, because now it was all about her and not about the conquest. Although perhaps that had been true almost all along. He'd stopped playing the numbers game the day he fell for Rory Gilmore.

Absorbed in this disturbing realisation, it was a while before he became aware that she should have returned. She'd left her jacket, though- surely she hadn't run out on him again. Not that it was a date, he reminded himself- it was just two friends having dinner. It wasn't likely to be a date- after all, it had been her idea. Tristan decided he had to stop assuming he was to blame every time she ran away. He didn't honestly believe she disliked him, or anyone else for that matter, enough to leave behind an unfinished coffee.

He paid the bill and went to look for her. He didn't have to go far. She was sitting on a bench, just to the side of the restaurant, crying as if her heart would break. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and comfort her, but there seemed to be a barrier around her he wasn't sure he could breach.

Unable to help himself, though, he reached out and pushed a strand of hair back from her face.

"Rory, what's wrong?"

"I can't tell you."

She sounded so lost that he didn't ask any more, but simply sat down and pulled her into his arms. She cried and cried, and he tried rocking her, like a baby, in the hope that it would soothe her. He wasn't sure what to do, was fairly sure he'd never been a shoulder to cry on before. When at last she was quiet, he half-led, half-carried her to the car.

'Come on, I'll take you home."

It wasn't far, but by the time they reached her house,she was asleep. He didn't want to wake her, but worried that she'd wake up if he tried to carry her into the house. However, he had to get her there somehow- she certainly couldn't sleepin his car.

There didn't really seem to be any choice. He opened the passenger door, took off her seatbelt and lifted her out of the car. She didn't wake up, but instead seemed to nestle into his arms. He knew that it was unconscious on her part; was torn between gladness that he could be the one to comfort her, and incredible sadness at her hurt. He carried her into the house. Fortunately, the maid was there and directed him to Rory's room. He placed her gently on the bed and pulled a blanket over her. As he'd laid her down, the cellphone had fallen from her pocket and now he picked it up. He glanced at it as he set it on the nightstand and saw the details of the last call still displayed on the screen.

Dean.

He should have known that the bagboy had something to do with her tears. Rage almost blinded him and it was all he could do not to take the phone and smash it into the wall. Then he looked at Rory again and the anger left him. He let his fingers trace the outline of her face in the shadows, sure now that she was sleeping soundly enough that his touch wouldn't disturb her.

He would have thought that she would have moved on by now- surely it would have become obvious to her that she deserved better than Dean. He had never have been able to pinpoint what he so disliked about the bagboy- apart from the fact that Rory had chosen him. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew everyone thought Dean was such a nice guy and would always treat Rory right, whereas he had a reputation to overcome before they'd have let him near her. But he'd hated Dean's jealousy, and he didn't think that was just because Rory had tried to appease it by keeping away from him. Dean seemed to have to smother Rory to keep her with him, and Tristan didn't think that was any way to treat Rory Gilmore. He settled into a chair, contemplating her shadowy,sleeping form. Every now and then her breath caught- her tears had been so fierce that she was still affected, even in sleep. He couldn't leave her. He didn't want her to wake up alone.

For once, she didn't wake until morning, sitting up, confused as she realised she was still fully dressed. She looked around the room, her eyes still stinging and her vision blurred from her storm of tears the night before. Slowly they grew accustomed to the light and she saw Tristan, asleep in her chair. He looked oddly innocent. Rory smiled wryly to herself at how misleading visual images could be. Sensing her eyes on him, his snapped open and he looked at her.

"Morning."

"Morning." She didn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry about last night..."

"Don't be." He stopped her. "After all, what purpose could I possibly have in life if not to rescue the girl?"

She almost laughed at the idea but was stopped by the look in his eyes. "Yes, a regular knight in shining armour, that's the Tristan DuGray we all know and love."

His eyes widened with hope at her choice of words and hers softened. "Thank you." She meant it.

He stood up, stretching, knowing that now he had to leave. He dropped a kiss on top of her head as he lifted his car keys. "Any time, Mary. Any time. I'll see you later, OK?"

"OK," she whispered, surprised but strangely soothed by his touch.

He walked out of the house, a determined expression on his face. He'd reached a conclusion sometime during the night. Clearly he couldn't just head to Stars Hollow and give the bagboy what he deserved for whatever he'd done, however much he wanted to. That wouldn't help Rory. And suddenly helping Rory was all that he was all about. To do that, though, he thought he needed more information. So he did something he never really thought he'd do- he called Paris, getting the number from her mother.

"Tristan? Tristan Dugray?"

Needless to say, Paris was as shocked to hear from him as Rory had been to see him.

"Hi, Paris. Yes, it's me. How many other Tristans do you know?"

"And there we have the proof. I could know many Tristans, but you'd still think you were the only one. What do you want?"

"Still the same Paris- so refreshingly direct. It's been a while, you know- I could tell you I called just to hear how you'd been, but somehow I don't think you'd believe me."

Paris snorted, and there was some bitterness in her voice when she replied. "If you said you were calling to hear how Rory's been, it might be a little more believable."

"Well, believable or not, you've stumbled on the truth."

"What happened- you were revisiting the past in an idle blonde-free moment and decided to go back for the brunette that got away? Because- "

He really didn't want to hear the snide remarks. "Paris, please just be quiet and listen for a minute, would you?"

"All right." Being Paris, she didn't sound particularly gracious but at least he'd bought a moment of two of her listening. Based on this performance, he really didn't buy Rory's tale that Paris had changed.

"I'm on the Vineyard with my grandfather. Rory's here with her grandmother."

"Rory's there?"

"Paris, the idea was that you'd be quiet for a minute! Remember?"

"But what's she doing there? She's supposed to be at home with Lorelai. She's been talking about it for weeks. That doesn't make any sense."

Tristan took a deep breath and tried to count to ten. Paris, as always, was severely testing his patience. "Well, she's here and she's miserable. Last night she ran out of dinner and I found her crying. She won't tell me what's wrong but I know it has something to do with Dean."

Paris sighed. "Get over it, Tristan. Whatever it is- and I'm not convinced it isn't just the effect you have on her- it certainly isn't Dean. Rory hasn't been with him for years now. Besides, he's married."

Tristan frowned. There was something not quite right about this picture."I saw his name as the last call on her cellphone when I took her home. She was really upset, Paris."

She could hear the worry in his voice and tried to soften her tone. Being Paris, and it being Tristan on the other end of the line, though, it took more effort than she could really muster first thing in the morning. "If it's really not you that upset her, Tristan, I don't know what it is. She must have agreed to have dinner with you, though, so you can't be doing everything wrong."

"Actually, she suggested it." He could visualise Paris rolling her eyes at the pride he couldn't quite keep out of his voice, even now.

"Well, then. Just don't make her more miserable than she is already."

"I'm trying not to."

He hung up and Paris surveyed her phone. Now she'd have to call Rory. The prospect didn't exactly fill her with joy. Paris had a feeling that whatever was going on, Rory didn't want to talk about it. And it had to be bad if she'd left Stars Hollow. She sighed and dialled the number.

"Rory?"

"Paris?"

Paris had no other way of doing anything but getting straight to the point with as little ceremony as possible.

"So, Tristan called."

"He did?"

"Yes. He says you're on Martha's Vineyard with your grandmother, you're upset, and it's not his fault. What's going on, Rory? And why did I have to hear about it from Tristan, of all people? I'm your roommate, for crying out loud!"

Rory held the phone from her ear and waited until the storm of questions subsided. Paris would have to hear sooner or later, and telling her should at least be easier than telling Lane. She was still inclined to put that off, even though she didn't think she had much choice now. The whole town was bound to find out, and it would be worse if Lane heard it from someone else. She put that thought out of her mind and returned to dealing with the more immediate problem of Paris.

"I slept with Dean."

"That's impossible!"

Rory fought the tempatation to laugh. Hysterics wouldn't help at this point. "Actually, it is because I did. And then I fought with him, and last night he called to say he's told Lindsay. He hasn't left her, though, because I couldn't ask him to. I don't even think I want him to. But it won't be a secret any more, now that she knows."

Paris was speechless. Almost. "Well, then- big mistake. Over with. Move on!"

"Paris, are you even listening to me? I slept with a married man. That makes me a- an adulteress! Maybe a homewrecker! And I had sex, for the first time I might add, as a one-night stand. With Dean!" She'd have started to cry again, but apparently there were no tears left.

"Rory, you think you made a mistake. Dean made a bigger one, and you can't change what happens in his marriage so there's no point worrying about it. Would you still think it was a big mistake if you wanted to be with him?"

"I'm not sure that I could be with him, knowing I'd broken up his marriage. Although- I do feel worse because I've probably done that anyway and I'm not sure now that it meant anything," Rory admitted.

"Well then, it's just sex."

"Just sex? Do I need to remind you that after your first time you suffered a complete meltdown on national television because you thought it had ruined your life? It was like an after-school special for abstinence! They could have used you as the poster girl to 'Just say No'!"

"That was also the day I didn't get into Harvard. If I had, there wouldn't have been a meltdown. And you promised never to bring that up!"

"I'm sorry."

"On reflection I realise that I may not have been quite as tactful as I could have been just now, so I'll forgive you. And don't forget I survived that particular meltdown and, given my more recent history, that means there are probably greater mistakes in your future too. Speaking of which, what are you doing with Tristan?"

Rory felt a flush coming over her face. She was beginning to get extremely fed up with this reflexive response to Tristan. He wasn't even there and she was blushing again. What was wrong with her? "In case you missed everything I've said in this call, I've been a little too preoccupied to be doing anything with Tristan. Not that I would anyway- I mean, come on! He's here and I'm here and we've just been catching up."

"Hmmm." Paris sounded less than convinced. "Funny how that doesn't sound like a good enough reason for him to call me for the first time in three years, citing his concern for you."

"He was there when Dean called. Obviously he didn't know it was Dean that called, but he was really sweet."

"Tristan? Sweet? While you're sleeping with married men? What else have I missed?"

"I'm not sleeping with married men. It happened once! As did Tristan being sweet. I'm fairly certain that won't happen again anytime soon either."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Tristan, I mean, not you. There was an odd quality to his voice on the phone that could possibly be mistaken for sweetness. As for you on the other hand, I'm sure you'll be innocent and revirginised in no time."

"Well thank you- I think. Innocence does seem fairly appealing right now."

"Even with Tristan in the picture?"

Rory rolled her eyes, forgetting it wouldn't have much effect down a phone line.

"Bye, Paris."


	6. Friends

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews! You have no idea how much I appreciate them.

The next few days saw Rory trailed out to various functions by her grandmother. As a way of spending a vacation, it didn't seem to hold many benefits, but at least it let her pretend that she didn't have time to call Lane. She'd been lucky enough to avoid her friend's calls as well. She wasn't entirely pleased with the way she was thinking, but she really wasn't convinced that Lane would take the news about Dean well. She had a feeling that Lane would be at least as disapproving as Lorelai had been. At the same time, she wanted to tell her before Mrs. Kim heard the news on the town grapevine. Lane definitely deserved some time to prepare for that.

The functions she'd been dragged to hadn't even offered the compensation of Tristan's company. They'd all been ladies' luncheons and small private parties to which even Tristan's grandfather didn't appear to have been invited. Rory was a little bothered that she thought Tristan's presence would be some kind of compensation for having to go to these events, but at least he was roughly her age and hadn't complained about her weird mood changes. He probably thought she'd lost it since they'd been at Chilton. Then again, she'd had some weird mood changes then too. Of course, the source was pretty much the same.

It was amazing that after all this time Dean was still somehow affecting her relationship with Tristan. Not that she'd ever had a relationship with Tristan, of course. Funny, though, that he'd been around before to pick up the pieces- or at least to try. She smiled at the thought of their kiss at the piano- and her hasty retreat. The smile faded as she remembered telling Dean she hated Tristan. Sometimes she wondered if she'd put them in the wrong boxes in her head- evil Tristan, good boyfriend. Some of Dean's ingrained perfection was wearing off in her mind. It had probably lasted longer than it should due to the guilt she had about the way she'd treated him when she met Jess. Now, however, he didn't seem like such a good guy if he was willing to cheat on his wife, no matter what problems they were having. And even if the girl he was cheating with was her. She couldn't remember Tristan cheating on anyone that cared. It probably didn't say much for them or him but at least all the girls he'd been with had been using him just as much as he'd been using them. Except Paris, anyway, and Rory had to remember that she was mostly responsible for that whole mess herself.

"Rory? Are you ready?"

Her grandmother was knocking at the door, trying to hurry her along to another polite, pointless lunch. Tristan had laughed when she'd told him she was having to go to another all-female lunch where they'd probably be serving iced tea instead of coffee. He hadn't sounded upset that she didn't have time to spend with him though. She couldn't exactly blame him for that. After all, they really didn't know each other that well any more- if they ever had- and she'd run out on him and cried all over him since meeting him again. Not to mention falling asleep on him twice. She wouldn't score many points as a summer distraction. He may have been sweet when she'd cried but sweet and Tristan DuGray didn't really go together. She wasn't even sure she'd have wanted them to. Dean was sweet, and look where that got her. Of course, Jess wasn't really, althought he did have his moments-

What was she doing comparing them again? This really needed to stop.

"Rory? We need to go. The Oldhams are very particular about punctuality andI don't want to be late."

Rory sighed. At least this trip had got her away from Stars Hollow, even if the peace and quiet she'd been looking for wasn't quite as forthcoming as she'd hoped.

This lunch was over more quickly than most of the others, thanks to Emily's sudden headache. Rory thought it had something to do with being asked one too many questions about Richard, but she wasn't complaining. She was just grateful for the chance to spend the afternoon in her room, reading. It didn't seem that enough reading time had been factored in to this so-called vacation.

She'd hardly sat down before she was interrupted by her phone. She smiled a little as she saw his name on the screen. "Tristan?"

"Rory?"

"And he remembers my name! I'm honoured!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mary. Just checking it was you." She could hear the teasing smile in his voice and tried to stop herself smiling back, even though he couldn't see her.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. DuGray?" The words were out of her mouth before she realised what she was saying and she was forced to listen to his chuckle. It wasn't the worst sound in the world, if she was honest. If he'd just leave it at the laughter- but no: she knew him better than that.

"Why, Miss Gilmore, if I'd known there was an offer like that on the table I'd have taken more time to compile a list before I called. Perhaps I should think about it....."

His voice trailed off suggestively. She didn't want to think about what he was thinking. Or what he wanted her to think he was thinking.

"Why are you interrupting my reading, Tristan?"

"Now, you've obviously been spending too much time with Paris. That was direct, but somehow not refreshingly so, coming from you." His tone was still teasing.

"Focus, Tristan. State your purpose!" She'd done it again.

"My purpose, Mary? I'm sure if you put your mind to it you could think of a purpose for me-"

She cut him off. This had gone on long enough. "No, I remember your purpose. You are Sir Tristan, the knight in shining sports car, who rescues the damsel in distress."

"Well, see, Mary, that's actually why I called."

"But I'm not in distress at the moment, Tristan."

"No, but you were, and I figured you'd had enough of hanging round with your grandmother and I know I've seen enough of my grandfather for today. So I decided it was time we had an evening out, or in if you prefer, with no motive other than trying to end the evening without you running out in tears. I won't even mind if you fall asleep as long as you don't do that."

"Can't promise that."

He sounded slightly worried. "You can't?"

"No- how can I predict how I'll react to whatever you'll say or do? I don't know what weird stunt you might pull this time."

"So you'll come?"

"I see no reason not to as long as the motive remains as outlined above."

"Good. I'll pick you up around seven and we can decide what to do from there."

"Yes, that's fine. I'll see you later."

"Later, Mary."

He replaced the receiver, feeling unusually happy. If he was being honest there was definitely an ulterior motive, but he was trying to ignore that for the moment. From what he could tell, Rory could do with a friend. Paris hadn't been able to tell him what was wrong- wasted effort that had been- and she'd left her mother and friends behind in Stars Hollow. He very much doubted that she was confiding in her grandmother. He wasn't convinced that she'd ever confide in him, but at least if he could offer some kind of contrasting lightness to the gloom that seemed to be plaguing her, it might give them both a break. He was willing to give it a go- and he certainly wasn't willing to sit back and lose her once again. Remaining at a safe distance hadn't achieved much the first time round- except that maybe she didn't think of him with hatred, as he'd feared would have been the case if he'd kissed her that night he left. This time he was going to stick around and play the friendship game for all he was worth, hoping it would get him somewhere it hadn't before. He wasn't that keen on playing games with Rory's emotions, but it beat the hell out of doing nothing and at least the only one likely to get hurt was himself. After years of playing it safe- his whole life, emotionally speaking, if not so much any other facet, it was a risk he was willing to take.

Rory's phone rang again and she picked it up without looking at it.

"Tristan, I've already agreed! Now go away and let me read in peace."

"Tristan? All right Rory, I thought you had a lot of explaining to do but now that's right off the scale! What's going on?"

"Lane!"

"Yes, Lane! I'm glad you still remember my name. You disappeared without a word and your mom just keeps telling me you'll call. And I keep calling you, my best friend I might add, and yet somehow you're never there. If I didn't know you better I'd be a little paranoid- like maybe you only answered this because you thought I was Tristan. I mean, Tristan! I guess now I see the reason for the silence although I would have thought a development such as that would have merited a phone call. Or at least an email-"

"Lane, there's nothing going on with Tristan."

"But you left really suddenly and obviously you've heard from him again- unless you've regressed three years or something."

"I haven't regressed."

"So what's going on?"

Rory took a deep breath. So far this wasn't promising to be any easier than she'd imagined. "Something happened with Dean."

"With Dean?" There was silence. "Oh, Rory, you didn't kiss him or something did you?"

"Way worse." She paused, wondering how exactly to continue.

"Rory, please tell me you didn't."

"I really wish I could."

"Eww!"

"Is that all you can say?" Somehow talking to Paris hadn't seemed quite so surreal, which wasn't something that could often be said.

"I don't know, Rory. What do you want me to say? Yes, that's great- I'm happy for you maybe? I mean, this is huge. He's married!"

"Like I don't know that? Lindsay knows."

'Oh great, Rory. That means the whole town's going to know. Do you know what my mother's going to say?"

"I think I can guess if it goes anything like what her daughter's saying."

"That's not fair! You disappear and avoid all my calls and then just spring this on me out of the blue!"

"It's not like I planned it- any of it."

Lane tried to calm down. "Are you and Dean together? Oh wait- I'm guessing not since you thought I was Tristan. What kind of parallel universe is this anyway? You slept with Dean and then moved over to the dark side?"

"Tristan and I are just friends. What happened with Dean was a mistake. I came up here to get away from it and Tristan happened to be here. That's all."

Lane was silent. "Rory, why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid of how you'd react."

"Do you feel guilty?"

"I didn't think I did but I think I do. Does that make sense?"

"What was it like?"

"Lane!"

"All right, all right. Actually I don't even think I want to know. You'd better hope my mother doesn't find out though or I'll have even more difficulty talking to you than I've had the past few days."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Are you ok?"

"I haven't been but I think I'm getting there. I'm not quite ready to come home yet though."

"I don't think I blame you. At least now I know and maybe you'd tell Lorelai so that she can stop avoiding me. And maybe you could stop avoiding me too?"

"I'll do that."

"Bye Rory."

"Bye."

Rory felt the tears pricking her eyes yet again. She'd cried enough this summer to last at least half a lifetime. At least Lane was still talking to her. She let herself cry a little longer, but managed to keep it under control this time. That could almost be construed as progress. She gave up on reading with her stinging eyes and decided to get changed for the evening. She let herself smile again at the idea of Tristan as her rescuer. She kind of wondered if he was going to make a habit of picking up her pieces. It was beginning to feel like something she could get used to.


	7. Almost Perfect

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far. Sorry it's taken me so long to update- hope you like this chapter!

At least she was ready when he arrived, having done an unlikely amount of dithering over what to wear. It wasn't that she was usually more decisive: it was just that she was surprised she was putting so much effort into getting dressed just to hang out with Tristan. Of course, the last time he'd seen her she'd just woken up after crying herself to sleep, so probably it wasn't so unreasonable that she'd want him- anyone, for that matter, to see her in a better light. Especially when her eyes were still red from the afternoon's tears. It wasn't that she'd got dressed up for the occasion, either- she was just wearing a sleeveless blue top and jeans. Simple but effective.

Tristan certainly thought so when she came to the door. She'd have looked good to him in anything, but the soft blue brought out the colour of her eyes. He noticed their slight redness too, though. He was beginning to think that there wasn't much about Rory's appearance that would pass him by.

"Hi." He felt strangely awkward, as if it was a date. Not that it was a date, of course. And not that he ever felt awkward or nervous on dates. Supremely confident, more usually. Rory, in fact, would probably say over-confident. Not that she would know, because she'd never been on a date with him. Perhaps it was awkward because this wasn't exactly a date and he'd have to keep reminding himself of that because this was Rory. "Are you ready?"

Rory was watching him curiously while his mind was babbling to itself. "Yes. Just let me get a jacket. Where are we going?"

"I don't know- if you're not up for going out we could just go back to my grandfather's and hang out. We can get food on the way..."

"Sounds like a plan."

They were quiet as he drove, both a little nervous and unsure. Tristan being Tristan, he decided that had to change and overcompensated. As usual.

"So, Mary- looking forward to a quiet night in?" He pushed a hand through his hair as he spoke, flashing his eyes at her and managing to imbue the words with his usual innuendo.

Rory tried to ignore it. "Yes- it'll be nice not to have to really go out for a change. Sure you're all right with that, though? I mean, I wouldn't want to deny Tristan DuGray an audience with his adoring public."

He laughed. "No adoration at all? You wound me, Mary."

"My purpose in life achieved already!"

"I thought that was to drink coffee!"

They both laughed, the ice broken. He didn't know whether to be happy or sad that she wasn't being offended any more by his comments. Maybe he had toned them down a bit, afraid how she'd react. Or maybe she didn't read any intent in them at all. Perhaps that was good- it reduced the chances of her running away. On the other hand, if she didn't take him seriously at all, there was no chance of her seeing him the way he wanted her to. He sighed.

"Something wrong, Tristan?" she said sweetly.

"Just disappointed, Mary."

They opted for pizza and fought amiably over the toppings. She insisted on lots of ice cream for dessert and then demanded a tour of the house. He was pleased that she seemed lighter, less preoccupied than on their previous meetings, took her straight to the library in an effort to score extra points. It seemed to work.

"I guess now I know how you started reading," she commented, walking in a full circle around the room. She paused here and there, touching occasional volumes almost reverentially. He enjoyed watching her- she was so completely at ease surrounded by books.

"Nothing much else to do up here," he said, leaning in towards her as she returned to him. "Want to see the rest of it?"

He was somewhat selective, leading her next to a small sitting room in which a baby grand piano sat. He didn't know if reminding her of times past would really help his cause- after all, they hadn't exactly achieved a happy ending before. He just knew he wanted her to remember- and he couldn't sit at any piano without remembering the kiss they'd shared.

It was obvious that it crossed her mind too. He could tell from the blush that crossed her face.

"Do you still play the piano?" she asked.

"Sometimes- not so much anymore. Do you still read at parties?"

"Not so much any more. I read other times though- why don't you play?"

"Pianos aren't so portable. I started guitar when I went to military school. At least I can take it anywhere."

"Do you have one here?"

"Yes- it's in my room. Do you want to see it?" He just about managed to keep the innuendo out of his voice.

"Yes- if that's ok."

"Well, sure- if you think you can control yourself with me alone in my room, Mary," he said, the cocky grin back.

She rolled her eyes. Funny how much he liked seeing her do that.

"Oh, I can control myself." She leaned in a bit closer. "The question is, can you?"

He wasn't sure, was astonished that she seemed to be flirting with him. "I'm not very good, you know," he said, leading the way to the stairs to his attic room.

She giggled. "Now that's something I bet you've never said before while leading a girl to your room!"

He shook his head. He didn't know why she had this effect on him.

She didn't know why she was pushing him into taking her into his room. Normally she would have avoided any such situation, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. Whatever that was. She wasn't very sure anymore.

"Here we are," he said, opening the door and ushering her inside.

The room was amazing- windows that stretched the whole way along the slanted roof, with a view even better than from her grandparents' house. It was more plainly decorated than she would have imagined, not that she'd been thinking about his room, but at least there were no posters of naked women on the walls. Perhaps he'd grown out of that, or perhaps his grandfather wouldn't have approved. The bed was huge, the focal point of the room, but she'd have expected that. It wasn't unexpected, after all- it was a bedroom. But the bookshelves crammed with books and his huge CD collection vied for attention too.

"Nice room," she said softly, sinking onto the floor with her back against the door.

"Thank you." He smiled and shook his head as he registered the position she'd taken up. He'd been looking at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was there, but the innocence of the situation was almost amusing. He sat down on the bed and reached for the guitar case.

"Sure you want to do this?"

She nodded. "It's time you displayed some of your talents."

His eyes widened. "I'd be happy to display any of my talents for you, Mary."

"Let's just stick with the musical ones for the time being."

"Is location included with that? Like what happened on a certain piano bench?" He couldn't help but push it a little, looked at her with hopeful eyes.

"Shut up and play, music boy!" She was laughing at him again.

"OK, but I'd just like to point out that I have talents much greater than the mere musical..." He trailed off as she shifted against the door. "You can come on in, Rory. It's safe, I promise."

"I know, but I'm fine here. Now play!"

"Maybe I don't perform to order....."

"Quit stalling!"

"Quite the dominatrix, Mary?"

His fingers were tracing chords. He wasn't sure what to play for her. With her sitting before him, all that came to mind were romantic songs. With a small sigh he settled for "When You Say Nothing At All", knowing that it was cheesy, but if she thought of the words, he'd mean every single one. He wasn't going to sing for her, that would be ridiculous. Not to mention the fact that he had no illusions about his voice. There would be no quicker way to make her run from the room. Well, maybe there would be one quicker way. He was almost grateful for the distance between them and the fact that he was holding a guitar that would restrict his access to her. It seemed safer.

He followed the first song with "Shelter from the Storm." She recognised both songs, which was a good sign for his playing, started to demand choices of her own. It was turning into the perfect evening. He hadn't turned on any lights and the fading sunlight lit the room as he played everything she asked.

"Do you know any Springsteen?"

"Almost all," he confessed.

"Thunder Road? Secret Garden?"

"A Jerry Maguire fan?" he smiled.

"You had me at hello," she quoted.

He wished that was true, segued into Tom Petty's Free Falling from the same film, which pretty much summed up the way he was feeling. He didn't know what to do but keep playing whatever she requested and hope she wouldn't leave.

Rory was genuinely enjoying herself. A musician catering personally to her every whim, a sunset that was one of the most beautiful she'd ever seen- it was almost the most romantic evening she could remember. Except that it wasn't romantic- it was just hanging out with Tristan. She was having to force herself to remember that.

She seemed to have run out of songs to request by the time it was almost dark, and he was playing random chords that occurred to him as they chatted softly and inconsequentially, each too much caught up in the other to tease.

He found himself playing the song that always made him think of her, seemed to represent how he thought of her. Her brow furrowed in that way that suggested she was trying to recover some lost thought or memory. He watched her, knowing it was the song title that she sought in the recesses of her mind, half-hoping it escaped her.

"What's that song?" she asked eventually.

He hesitated, not wanting to tell her in case the words would give him away. "Just a song, Mary. I'll let you figure it out some other time."

Her nose wrinkled in vague annoyance. Fortunately she didn't push it. "I'll hold you to that. If you're not going to tell me, can there be coffee now?"

"Indeed there can."

He set the guitar to one side and laughed as she struggled to her feet, catching her arm as she stumbled. "I did offer you a more comfortable seat, Mary."

"I know. Coffee withdrawal," she explained, trying to ignore his touch. It was getting harder to ignore anything about Tristan- how she felt so comfortable with him, yet all her senses seemed heightened. She sighed softly as his hand withdrew and they made their way back downstairs. It had been a perfect evening. She almost didn't want to leave.

They lingered over coffee, neither wanting to be the one to bring the evening to an end. At last Tristan forced himself to his feet, mostly because if he sat beside her any longer he wouldn't be able to stop himself from touching her, or trying to kiss her, and he didn't want to her to run away again.

'I'd better take you home. Your grandmother may be sending out a search party."

Rory laughed. "I don't think she'd notice if I was there or not. Plus she knows I'm with you. The DuGray name is almost as much like Hartford royalty in her head as the Gilmore name. Even if it does belong to the disgraced delinquent son!"

Tristan laughed. He was ashamed of his past- though not as ashamed as he was of his family for the way they'd treated him. Somehow Rory's teasing made it better in a way that ignoring it all never could. He held out his hands to help her up, and she took them, finding herself pulled out of her chair and suddenly closer to him than she'd expected. He forced himself to step back, to look away from the eyes that almost bewitched him. He ran his hand through his hair in an effort to compose himself. Rory, to her amazement, had to clasp her own hands together so that she wouldn't start running them through his hair herself.

"I'll get your jacket."

"Thank you."

She wasn't sure what else to say. The drive back to her grandmother's was almost silent, not quite comfortable but not uncomfortable in a way that made her want it to be over.

"Thank you," she said again as he walked her the few short steps to the door. "I had a really good time."

"Really?" He looked suddenly vulnerable, wanting her approval.

"Really." She reached up and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Goodnight," she added quickly, opening the door.

"Night, Mary." He smiled softly as she rolled her eyes. "Shall we do it again?"

There was the merest hint of suggestion in his voice but she smiled back. "Yes, I think we shall."

They were both still smiling as she closed the door.


	8. Revelation

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews- I'm very grateful for them.

"Rory? Is that you?"

Her grandmother's voice sounded strained and Rory followed the sound into the living room.

"Hi, Grandma." The smile vanished as she took in the sight of her grandmother sitting on the couch, wrapped in her robe, a glass in her hand. "Is everything all right?"

Emily laughed but the sound was harsh and the effect brittle. Rory wondered briefly how much she'd had to drink. Her eyes were slightly glazed and she seemed to be in a very peculiar mood.

"That depends, dear. Do you think it's all right that Richard and I are apparently getting divorced?"

"What?" Rory sank onto the chair beside her. "When did this happen?"

"Richard called this evening. He said that as there appeared to be no sign of a reconciliation we would have to make a decision. So we did." She drained her glass and Rory tried to take it from her.

"But if you talked to him-"

"We have talked, Rory. We've spent most of our lives talking and look where we've ended up. There's no point in wasting any more time about it."

"What do you mean? That can't just be it!"

"But it is, Rory." For a moment Emily looked more like herself as she reached out and patted Rory's arm. "I'm sorry our trip is ending like this, but I need to meet with my lawyers. I'm afraid we'll have to head back in the morning."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, dear." She got up and moved unsteadily to the door, turning as she reached it. "Did you have a pleasant evening?"

"Yes, thank you." Rory smiled half heartedly.

"That's good. I'll see you in the morning." Only Emily Gilmore could still manage to appear poised, walking up the stairs half-drunk with her world crashing down.

"Night, Grandma."

Rory flopped back into the cushions. This was not the next move she'd imagined. Having to go home when she was just starting to come to terms with everything would definitely not have been her first choice. And then there was Tristan. She sighed. She really didn't want to leave when she was starting to have fun with him. It didn't matter that the very idea of having fun with Tristan sometimes seemed so alien that even tonight she'd felt like she was in a parallel universe, albeit a very pleasant one. Nothing about this summer, the good or the bad, seemed to have much place in reality. She'd known she'd have to face it again sooner or later, but this seemed just a little premature. She pulled her phone from her purse and dialled home. The machine picked up.

"Hi Mom." She wasn't sure how much Lorelai would have heard yet about her parents' decision, wasn't quite sure what to say. "Grandma's decided to head home in the morning, so I guess I'll see you sometime tomorrow. Can you call me when you get this? Thanks."

She stared at the phone after she'd hung up, wondering whether to call Tristan. She didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, not after his compassion in dealing with her misery and not after this evening that had held a promise of something more than simple kindness. She wondered a little that it felt harder to be leaving him than it did to be going back to a situation that had no prospect of happy resolution- after all, he was just an old, almost-friend and accidental distraction. Their friendship now was based on two things: the first, her need to escape and the second, his desire to comfort her, unfathomable though that was. It was an embryonic alliance that really didn't make sense- hardly surprising, she reminded herself, since it wasn't built on anything solid and true. It didn't help that now she felt she owed him something more. She owed him something like honesty, but she didn't want the truth to mean that he'd vanish out of her life again. On the other hand, just disappearing didn't exactly guarantee a joyful reunion.

Rory stuffed the phone back in her purse and grabbed her grandmother's keys instead. She'd have to see him to say goodbye. He deserved at least that much from her. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a thought that she owed herself that much too. She tried to block out the memory of the way her lips had burned when she kissed his cheek earlier.

A few minutes later she was parked in his driveway, wondering if this had been such a good idea. She was more completely confused than she had been at any time before. Her grandmother's bombshell, having to face Dean and Lindsay and everyone in Stars Hollow, Tristan...She didn't even know where he fit into it all, yet here she was, outside his house in the middle of the night. She reached for her phone again, not wanting to wake his grandfather.

"Hello?" The voice was sleepy as he answered and she saw the light flicker on in his room.

"Tristan?"

"Mary?" She could hear surprise and something like amusement in his voice. "Is this a booty call? Wouldn't have taken you for that type, but I guess I'll take you any way you want if it is."

His voice, clouded with sleep, had never sounded better. It almost made her forget what she was doing there. The words almost made her laugh- another short trip into that make-believe world where everything was good. She wondered for a moment what he'd do if she called his bluff, then remembered everything that made it impossible. She shook her head, realized it was a futile gesture, and forced herself to speak seriously.

"It's not a booty call. Can I come in?"

She was staring up at his windows as she spoke, saw him silhouetted there a moment later. "Of course. I'll come down."

She was standing on the porch, shivering when he opened the door. She wasn't sure herself if she was cold or scared. Amusement and sleep had vanished from his face and he looked simply concerned. "Are you all right?"

"I just wanted to tell you it's been really good to see you again," she said, stepping past him into the hall.

He looked puzzled, running his hand through his hair in the now familiar gesture she was growing to like. "You're sure this isn't a booty call?"

"Please don't." The look of sadness he was growing familiar with crossed her face and he wanted to make it disappear, but didn't know how. He couldn't know how, if she still wouldn't tell him what was wrong. He was certain now it wasn't his fault, though. If it was she wouldn't have come here in the middle of the night. Rory Gilmore liked her sleep- she wasn't going to sacrifice it just to yell at him.

"I'm sorry. Come on in, sit down." He led her into the conservatory. "Would you like a drink?"

She smiled then. "Tristan DuGray, the ever hospitable. No thank you, I'm fine."

"Are you?" He was sitting beside her. "Why exactly are you here?"

"To say thank you for tonight, for taking me sailing, for staying with me that night, for everything...."

"You don't have to-"

"I do." Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "My grandparents are getting divorced. Grandma needs to go back to Hartford so we're leaving in the morning. I just didn't want to go without saying goodbye."

He was leaning closer to her now, able to slip an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry. And I'm glad to see you- but this really doesn't have to be goodbye."

She looked up at him, wanting to trust the words but knowing that she couldn't. He started to lean even closer, beginning to believe that she might let him kiss her this time without running away. But she stood up, moving away from him even before he could try. He couldn't see how much it had cost her, but he saw that the tears had started to fall silently down her cheeks. He stood up, tried to take a step towards her, but she moved away again, too scared to stay too close.

"You don't know, Tristan- if you did you'd want it to be goodbye." She felt as though the ground was shifting under her, as if something she'd always wanted had just been offered and was about to be snatched away. Always wanted? Was she admitting she'd always wanted him? Where had that idea come from? She was finding it hard to look at him, knew she was going to tell him, suddenly knew that was why she'd come here. It wasn't just to say goodbye. Being in the fairytale fantasy with him as her errant knight had been just what she'd needed but now she needed to face reality. For some reason that still remained just out of reach, she needed him to know too, even if the part of her that wanted him to care didn't want to tell him.

He tried again to step towards her. "I doubt that, Mary. Don't you remember I never wanted it to be goodbye?"

She looked at him again, saw the memory of the night he couldn't kiss her goodbye playing behind his eyes. She summoned what strength she could. "Don't call me Mary."

"I'm sorry." He still looked confused. Earlier, she hadn't seemed to mind. He couldn't figure out what had changed.

"I'm not that girl any more."

"What girl?"

"Mary."

"Rory-"

She was twisting her hands in front of her and he reached out to hold them still. She looked up, found herself caught in his eyes.

"I slept with Dean." She'd blurted it out, not finding any other way to tell him. Or not to tell him.

He dropped her hands in shock and took a step back himself. He'd never believed that a person's jaw could actually drop in disbelief, but found that he had to close his mouth.

"When?"

"When I got home from Yale."

"But- Paris said he was married."

"He was. He is." She saw the look in his eyes, couldn't read it; had no choice now but to keep going. "I had to get away- so I came here with my grandmother, but now I have to go home. I wanted-"

She stopped. She didn't know what she wanted. She couldn't expect the boy whose stud status was legendary but who'd built a whole relationship on teasing her about her innocence to understand. He didn't seem to be about to say anything.

"I have to go....."

She left him standing there, heard him call her name as she walked out the front door, but he didn't try to follow her. She was almost grateful for that. Right now she felt like she'd destroyed part of her soul in that room with him. The part that liked it when he called her Mary.


	9. Fallen Angel

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. I really appreciate them.

He didn't know what to do. For the first time he wasn't actually sure that he wanted to go after her. The Rory he thought he knew would never have slept with a married man. He sighed a little, wondering if he was being hypocritical when he'd never exactly been renowned for his high moral code. Still, he couldn't quite believe what she'd done. It seemed completely out of character, but then, he hadn't seen her in years. How could he really know what she was like now?

It didn't matter that the time he'd spent with her recently had confirmed all the things he thought he already knew- this changed everything. He wandered from the conservatory, still dazed, found himself in the room with the piano, staring at it. He could almost feel the innocence of her lips on his and the memory made him angry. Had he just been the bad boy who could only kiss her once before she went running back to the perfect boyfriend? Was Dean still the perfect boyfriend in her head? He couldn't imagine that she could think that, believe it enough to start an affair with him. Rory Gilmore, an affair! He found himself repeating it over and over in his head, trying to take it in.

"Ah, Tristan. I thought I heard voices. Was that the Gilmore girl?"

His grandfather had followed him into the room.

"Yes." He was in no mood for conversation and his voice sounded unnatural. He was grateful it was working at all.

"Sometimes it's good to see that not everything's changed. My grandson's still entertaining young ladies in the middle of the night." He sounded amused.

Tristan turned to face him. "She came to say goodbye. She's going home."

"And you didn't try to stop her?"

"She didn't give me a chance." He wasn't even sure that was true. He hadn't tried to go after her, just stood there like some dumbstruck idiot as she ran out of his life again. This time, though, maybe it really was for the best. He'd spent long enough thinking about her. He didn't need to waste more time if the Rory in his head wasn't real.

"I don't remember you waiting for an invitation when you wanted something before. I'm sorry, though- you've been happier since she turned up than I've seen you in years."

He found that he was having to bite back tears. The feeling was so unfamiliar that he hardly knew how to contain it. He hadn't felt this bad since the last time he'd said goodbye to her. He was aware of his grandfather's keen gaze but tried to avoid it.

"Still, Stars Hollow isn't so far from Hartford. You could always spend the rest of the summer at home. If you really didn't want to say goodbye."

"At home?" Tristan looked at him then, incredulously. "You know I can't do that."

His grandfather sighed. "No, Tristan. I know you don't want to do that. But you can't run from it for the rest of your life. How bad can it be?"

Tristan tried to laugh. "You're really asking me that?"

"It's up to you. It always was. But if she's worth it......"

He let the sentence drift and watched his grandson for a moment or two, saw that some kind of struggle was going on in his mind. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Tristan nodded. He didn't think there was much chance of him getting any sleep tonight.

He was upset and angry at Rory. He didn't even understand why. Part of him wanted to run after her and prove that he cared but part of him just wanted to shout at her for doing something that didn't fit with anything else he knew of her- something that hurt him. He tried to shake that thought. After all, she owed him nothing. He was only dimly aware that part of the hurt came from the conviction that she'd been unfaithful to herself.

He softened a little as he thought of how upset she'd been the night Dean had phoned her and how he'd stayed with her, just wanting to make it all better. He wasn't as naive as he'd believed her to be though- he was well aware that she hadn't fallen into bed with the bagboy purely by chance. Rory Gilmore didn't do much accidentally, in his view, apart, of course, with the sole exception of that stolen kiss on the piano bench. He didn't trust himself to go after her, not really: not while he didn't know what he'd say or do. Standing here alone- staring at a piano, no less- really wasn't going to help though. Once again, he was left with only one option- Paris.

"Hello?" She sounded more than half asleep as she answered the phone.

"Paris?"

"Tristan? What are you doing, calling me at- I don't even know what time it is! What's going on?"

"Rory told me."

"Oh." She seemed to be waiting for him to go on but he didn't know what else to say. "I'm guessing you haven't woken me up to tell about the happy ending to that little conversation."

"No. She ran out. She's going back to Stars Hollow tomorrow."

"So it didn't end well. I didn't think anything would get her back there this summer. What did you say to her?"

"Nothing. She was already going back- her grandparents are getting divorced."

"Oh." Paris processed that information, then discarded it as irrelevant to the problem at hand. "But what did you say to her?"

"I told you- nothing."

Paris sighed. "I don't know what's been going on with you two, but if she trusted you enough to tell you, I'd have thought you could have done better than nothing."

Tristan was irritated. "Did you do much better yourself?"

Paris had the grace to blush, though he couldn't see her. "At least I said something!"

"I didn't know what to say. Of all the things I ever expected, Rory Gilmore telling me she was having an affair with her married ex-boyfriend really wasn't one of them."

Paris was wide awake now, having caught the note of self-pity in his voice. "You're going to make this all about you, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?" He was starting to get annoyed. Rory dropped a bombshell like that, and Paris was blaming him for being self-absorbed. This night really couldn't get much better.

"You're blaming her for destroying your pathetic teenage fantasy. Did you really think she'd still be the virgin princess? And of course it's worse because it was Dean-"

"He's married!" Tristan said self-righteously.

"And you've never done anything wrong; nothing you were ashamed of?"

He was silent. Paris could see through him better than anyone else except maybe Rory and his grandfather. He let her continue.

"She never was the little angel you had in your head, Tristan. You really thought just because she didn't quite belong to Chilton that she was pure and perfect? That was never true. You think if you hadn't left when you did she wouldn't have cheated on Dean with you after that play?"

"She'd never have done that." No matter how much he'd wished that she would. The contradiction of his current reaction to a cheating Rory was too much to comprehend.

"Oh no? I saw the way she was with you during those rehearsals. And I know you wouldn't have wasted all that time on her if you actually believed she was incorruptible and you didn't stand a chance. Just so you know, she did cheat on him after that."

His image of Rory was crumbling further. "You're telling me I'm in love with a lie?"

Paris snorted. "You're telling me you're in love?"

He didn't want to answer that, to himself let alone Paris. "Never mind."

"Face it, Tristan, Rory was just far enough removed from Hartford society to appear different. But it's still where she came from- it's the world Lorelai grew up in."

"Lorelai got away from it all though."

"Sure she did. She got away so well that Lorelai still did everything she could to get Rory into Chilton- even reconciled with her parents. You think Rory had this cool, easy life with Lorelai? Imagine the pressure not to disappoint the mother who disappointed everyone else- especially when you were the result of all that pain. She's been living up to the expectations of a whole town all her life as well as dealing with Chilton and her grandparents and Lorelai. Believe me, that can't have been easy. Hardly surprising she's just as messed up as the rest of us."

"Rory was never like the rest of us."

"Define 'the rest of us'. Me? You think she wasn't just as desperate to succeed as I was? Or didn't want to fit in as much as Madeleine and Louise did? Or didn't enjoy fighting with you as much as you did with her?"

He did think that, all of that. Except maybe the part about fighting with him. If he'd really thought she didn't like it, he'd have stopped and tried something else to get her attention. If he was honest- and it seemed to be the theme of the night- he'd have to admit that he believed there always had been more between them than the one-sided craving he'd nurtured for so long.

Paris was still finishing her latest rant at his expense. "If you'd tried looking further than your-"

He was still angry, even if she was making some kind of sense. "My what? Further than my family, who shipped me out at the first sign of trouble?"

"More like at the final straw. Take a look at yourself, DuGray! You can't blame everything on them."

Paris had always expected more of him than anyone else. Even Rory had been more accepting of the person he'd been.

"You never did give me any credit, did you Paris?" He almost sounded sad, although approval from her was the last thing he'd have sought at Chilton.

"Did you ever prove you deserved it?"

He was silent for a moment. "So what now?" he asked eventually, as if she held the answers.

"That's up to you. If she's just the missing notch on your bedpost then forget it. She doesn't need any more crap. But if it's more than that, it's time you really did something about it. Next to Dean I'd think you're looking pretty good right now."

His laugh was hollow. "You know exactly how I always wanted Rory."

"Yes, you made that extremely clear. The question, though, is why."

He chose to ignore that. This conversation was only supposed to help him work out Rory- he wasn't in the mood to discuss his feelings with Paris.

"I'd have said the question was why she still wants Dean."

"Did she tell you that she does?"

"No, but she wouldn't have- if she didn't- I don't know." He gave up. It probably wasn't going to make any more sense tonight anyway.

"Neither does she. But at least she wanted to say goodbye. And at least she wanted you to know."

She was trying to be encouraging. Paris was fairly certain she knew what they both wanted, even if Tristan was beginning to doubt it and Rory was just beginning to work it out.

He sighed. "And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

"You'd have had to deal with it eventually. Or was this just supposed to be a random summer fling?"

He wasn't prepared to answer that either. He had a feeling she knew what his response would be if he did.

"Thanks, Paris. I'm sorry for waking you up." The innate charm was kicking back in.

"Night, Tristan. Leave the next crisis for a more civilized hour, all right?" The tone of her voice was softer than the words, softer than he would have expected. Either he sounded even worse than he thought or Paris really had started to mellow. He'd have smiled at the idea if his mind hadn't been so over-occupied.

"Night."

He hung up and contemplated the piano again. He'd have liked to play something- he'd always found it therapeutic- but he didn't want to wake his grandfather. Tiredness was beginning to take over anyway and he thought he should try to get some sleep. There would be a long drive ahead of him in the morning and the travelling would be the least of his problems. Going back there meant that it was no longer just about Rory: he'd have to confront the ghosts of his childhood past as well.


	10. Happy Never Afters

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you for reviewing! You have no idea how happy you're making me!

Rory was exhausted, but it had still seemed like a good idea to talk Emily into letting her drive. She'd never seen her grandmother with a hangover before, but she was fairly certain that was part of her problem. At least she'd managed to talk to Lorelai before they left. She was grateful her mother would be there to meet them in Hartford, especially as Emily hadn't said anything about where she was staying or if Richard was still in their home. Rory had wondered about the practicalities but then decided she had enough problems of her own. Driving was as much as she could manage for now.

Lorelai had sounded a little upset by the latest development, although Rory guessed that after the test run at the Dragonfly, she wasn't really that surprised. Her grandparents' difficulties offered some distraction from Rory's own complicated life, and she was glad in a guilty way that Lorelai would also have something else to occupy her mind. She couldn't begin to explain to herself what was going on in her head, and would rather be spared the incessant questioning she expected from her mother. Lorelai wouldn't let it rest until it all made sense. Rory sighed. After Dean, just how her feelings about Tristan and whatever wasn't going on between them would ever make sense was beyond her. She glanced at her grandmother, who seemed to have fallen asleep, before switching the radio on. She needed something to keep her alert. Unfortunately it would have to do so quietly.

She was almost relieved when they reached Hartford, although of course that meant she was almost back in Stars Hollow to face an all-new horror show. Lorelai was almost hanging out of the window waiting for them.

She bounded out of the house to hug Rory almost before she could get out of the car.

"It's so good to have you home!"

"Really?"

"Of course really! Let me look at you!"

Rory allowed herself to be held at arms' length. Even her delight at seeing Lorelai couldn't quite disguise the fact that she looked worse than she had when she'd left. Then, she'd been tired and confused and upset. Now, Lorelai saw something different: something resembling defeat. She didn't have much time to contemplate it though, as her mother came round the side of the car.

""Hi Mom." She moved to embrace the older woman awkwardly, wondered why, even at a time like this, everything between them had to be awkward.

"Lorelai. Is Richard here?"

"Uh- no. I haven't seen him."

"Well, at least we'll be spared any unpleasantness for the time being." Emily strode purposefully into the house, leaving the others no choice but to follow.

She stopped just inside the door, taking in all the familiar sights of her home.

"You know how long I've lived here? Since I was married my whole life has been in this house. And now-"

Lorelai moved to put an arm round her but Emily gently pushed it away and walked up the stairs.

Lorelai stared after her for a moment and then pulled her daughter into the living room.

"Do you think I should go up there?"

"I don't know. Do you think you should go up there?" Rory was already suppressing a yawn.

"I don't know. I'm sure Mom would the correct etiquette for the occasion but strangely enough, dealing with divorcing parents must have been one of the lessons I skipped when I was growing up. Didn't think I'd need it."

She sounded sad. Rory wasn't surprised by that. The equilibrium of Richard and Emily's marriage was something Lorelai had counted on, even after everything they'd been through. It was something she probably even aspired to, no matter how much of their lives she'd discarded.

"Well, do you think she should stay here alone?"

"No!" Rory looked horrified at the idea. "It's too sad."

"Fine. I'll go and talk to her. But you have to be ready to come and help- we'll have to take her to the inn by force if necessary."

"The inn? What about home?"

Lorelai regarded her in disbelief. "At the inn she can have Sookie's cooking and Michel to fawn over her all day long. We have to live at home- and somehow I don't think Emily in this mood would be a very good house guest."

"I could stay here with her. If you want." Rory's voice was hopeful. That way she could avoid the gossip at home a little longer.

Lorelai shook her head. "No, I don't. I want you home, with me. The madness has gone on long enough already."

"True." Rory sighed. Staying here alone with Emily wouldn't be much fun. It wouldn't be like Martha's Vineyard, where there was some chance of escape with Tristan. Her eyes filled with tears. She wiped at them with her hand, frustrated by her seeming inability to stop them.

"Are you all right?" Lorelai was full of concern. "Maybe I should have told Luke- we could have run Dean out of town before you came back."

Rory managed a watery smile. "It's not him. I'm just tired, that's all. Go get Grandma and we'll go to Luke's for something to eat."

"Going right now!"

Rory laughed. It was good to see her mother acting like an over-excited teenager being allowed to see her boyfriend. Of course, maybe it was just the thought of the food.....

She stared around the room, hardly able to believe that soon it wouldn't be home for both her grandparents. How on earth had that happened? You'd think after so long together, they'd be past all the drama. If this was what happened to them, what chance did she have of a happy ever after?

Lorelai appeared a few minutes later, trailing a none-too-pleased Emily behind her.

"Rory, would you tell your mother I'm a grown woman and perfectly capable of spending a few nights alone in my own home?"

"I don't know, Grandma. You know how good Sookie's cooking is, and the Dragonfly's really nice."

Emily huffed.

"Besides, Mom, I think Dad must have let the staff go in the meantime." Lorelai attempted to press home the advantage.

"That man really has no idea of propriety!"

Rory caught her mother's eye and both tried not to laugh. "I'm not sure that's right, Mom, but let's go. We'll bring you back over tomorrow if you like."

"Well, all right, if nothing else will please you." Lorelai looked surprised at the ease with which she'd won in the end. Emily eyed her sharply. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing. Come on!"

Rory stared at all the familiar sights of Hartford as they drove back through the town. The front of Chilton brought back more memories than she was ready for. She saw in her mind the moment she'd run into Dean's arms and told him she loved him, told him she hated Tristan. Looking back now, she wasn't sure any of that had been true. How different would it have been if she'd turned those words around? Of course, she hadn't had any reason to, not then. Just a really good, confusion-fuelled kiss.

Probably she'd just have been another conquest, instead of a whole world of could have been. Her whole relationship with Tristan, fragmented through time and space, was all about bad timing and stupid choices, on both their parts. Words that shouldn't have been spoken, kisses that shouldn't have happened, kisses that hadn't that should........If Dean was the relationship that couldn't be, Tristan was the one that wouldn't. She could still see the look of shock in his eyes when he realised she'd slept with a married Dean. She thought she'd seen something else, too- maybe censure, maybe disillusionment. Things she wished she hadn't seen because they'd brought her only sadness and hurt.

She wished she could see him again, found herself staring at every silver car, wishing him inside it. As they passed a gas station, she could have sworn she saw him but the image was gone when she blinked. She shook her head. She didn't need to start hallucinating.

Half an hour of silence later they were at Luke's. Rory glanced at her mother inquiringly and saw the look of panic flicker across Lorelai's face. Emily still didn't know about Luke. Was this really the right time to tell her mother she was dating the diner man?

"Why are we stopping here?" Emily's voice was querulous.

Lorelai grimaced, then made a hasty decision. This would give Emily something new to grumble about. It might even unite her and Richard.

She got out of the car. "Because we need to eat. And if we eat here you can meet Luke. At least, you've already met him, but we weren't going out then."

Emily looked horrified. She wasn't sure which piec e of information to deal with first.

"We're going in here to eat?"

"Yes, we are. So get out of the car and come on."

"And you're dating-" She paused to stare at Lorelai.

"Yes, I'm dating Luke. Now, come on!"

Rory, who had been looking hesitant too, scrambled out at her mother's command.

"Been practising giving orders in my absence?"

"It's the Dragonfly. I've been trying really hard to keep Michel in check. Glad it has another purpose," Lorelai returned.

The three walked into the diner, now facing Luke's look of panic. "If I'd known you were bringing your mother here I'd have changed," he muttered into Lorelai's ear as she reached up to kiss him hello.

"Into what exactly?" she answered sarcastically, laughing.

"Are displays of affection allowed between the clientele and staff?" Emily asked waspishly. She felt as though she was being expected to deal with far too much at once today.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Gilmore," he said through gritted teeth. "And you, Rory. How are you? What can I get you- apart from the coffee?" He added as he saw her start to smile.

"Can I have my usual with the coffee?"

He nodded resignedly. "You know, a few vegetables wouldn't kill you. You look like you could do with them." He gave up. "You know, it's really good to have you back."

"It's nice to see you too."

The food arrived after much deliberation on Emily's part. Fortunately there weren't many other customers to stare at her or gossip about Rory's return. Apparently there were enough though, for word to spread and the diner started to fill upas they ate dessert.

Rory was glad, in a masochistic way, to get it over with. There were a few cold hellos and a lot of whispering, much to Luke's confusion.

"At least we brought you some extra business," Lorelai whispered as he refilled her coffee.

"Remind me to ask you what's going on later," he muttered back.

They were distracted by Lane bursting through the door.

"Rory! I heard you were back!"

"How?" Rory asked as she jumped up to hug her friend.

"How do you think? You can't keep anything quiet in this town. Can we talk now?"

"What about Mrs. Kim?"

"She's out at a church meeting. I have time."

"Mom?"

"Go, catch up. I'll take your grandmother to the inn."

"Thanks. And thanks, Grandma. For everything."

Lane chattered until they reached Rory's house, then contemplated her friend curiously, her head tilted to one side.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm checking to see if you look different."

"Of course I don't look different- why would I look different?"

"You know-" Lane scrunched up her nose, looking slightly embarrassed. "Do you feel different?"

Rory sighed. "Yes, I do. Mostly I feel guilty and sad and- I miss Tristan."

"What?"

"I miss Tristan."

Lane was confused. "I know you saw him again, but what happened? What does he have to do with anything? How does he get to be a bigger story than sleeping with Dean?"

"I don't know- nothing happened." Rory smiled softly, sadly. "But he is."


	11. Seeking Reality

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! Please keep reading- I hope you like the way this is going.

He'd spent the night in his grandfather's pool house, too close to home to avoid paying a visit for long but far enough away to avoid facing his parents just yet. Not that he was ready to face Rory either: in fact, he was beginning to wonder why he'd bothered coming here, but after talking to Paris he knew that he hadn't really had a choice. It was either this or wonder about her for another few years until he managed to block her from his memory. He'd have been tempted to try that approach but it hadn't worked too well so far. He was also forced to admit that his grandfather was right- three years or more hiding from his family and his home was long enough. It was time to put all the relics of his Hartford adolescence behind him and move on. And that included Rory.

She'd have to be his first stop- after all, she was the reason he'd come back. Having got here, though, he wasn't sure he was looking forward to seeing her any more than his parents.

The road to Stars Hollow seemed shorter than he remembered and he found himself in the town with no clearer idea of what he'd say to her than he had the last time he'd seen her. He caught the glances of the people as he drove and almost groaned as he remembered all the things Rory had told him about the Stars Hollow gossip chain. At this rate she'd know he was here before he found her house. The car alone would be a giveaway and some of these people were staring so hard it seemed like they had X-ray vision and were noting what he'd had for breakfast. Neighbourhood watch in this town would be a winner.

He turned onto what he thought was the main street and recognised the diner she'd talked about while rhapsodizing over coffee. And her mother's new relationship with the owner- Luke, was it?

Suddenly, he came to a halt as he caught sight of Rory further down the road. She wasn't alone. His heart lurched as he recognised Dean. So that was it. It hadn't mattered that he was married- she'd chosen him anyway. He glanced into the diner, saw that he wasn't the only one watching Rory's conversation. Oh well, at least he wouldn't be the only topic of conversation today. Even though he didn't know anyone here, he'd learned to hate being the subject of gossip.

"Do you want me to go out there?"

Luke joined Lorelai at the diner window, neither of them trying to hide the fact that they were almost pressed up to the glass in an effort to work out what was going on.

"No. She has to figure this out for herself."

"All right. But I can hurt him if you want." He turned away, walked behind the counter. He

was glad Lorelai had finally told him what had happened, but his half-joking threat might very well become reality if he had to watch them much longer.

Tristan, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare, fascinated as all that he'd wanted for himself seemed to be wrenched away again. They were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn't seen his car- he could still drive past, drive away, pretend he'd never been there, pretend the last time he'd seen her was that night at Chilton. Goodbye suddenly seemed to be the only ending they could have had.

Telling himself to let go, he found himself frozen, watching her for a moment more, giving in to one last prayer of longing before he could leave. As he stared, though, he realised that they were arguing. He could see anger on Dean's face and saw Rory flinch as he tried to take her arm. Something snapped inside him. He couldn't just give up on her. He had to at least know the truth of what she'd become. Even if he was consigning her to his past, he'd come here to talk to her. He couldn't leave without doing that.

He got out of the car and walked towards them. They didn't notice. By now their voices were raised and he could hear everything they said.

"A mistake?" Dean's voice was incredulous. "Do you really think that?"

"Yes." Her voice was a broken monotone. "What we had- before- was sweet. It wasn't meant to be complicated."

"We should have stayed together. We would have stayed together if it wasn't for Jess."

So it was true. He hadn't really believed Paris when she told him Rory had cheated on the bagboy. Then again, maybe Paris had also been right when she said he wouldn't have wanted her so much if all there had been to her was her innocence. He reminded himself that there might have been a definite whisper of truth to that remark.

"Jess happened for a reason. If it hadn't been him it would have been someone else. It was never going to be us, Dean. It couldn't be- it can't."

Tristan rejoiced at the finality in her voice.

"What did you think you were doing then, Rory? Proving it? "

Dean reached out towards her again, trying to grab her arm. She recoiled again, stepping back out of his reach, but holding his eyes with her own. Tristan had heard enough. He cleared his throat.

"Rory."

Neither of them looked in his direction. Each was staring sadly at the other. Tristan had to do something. He'd heard her tell Dean it was never going to happen but the past hung between them and around them, a heavy curtain of history. If Tristan didn't get her attention very soon he was afraid she'd kiss him and he didn't think he could be there to see that. He did the only thing possible.

"Mary."

Her head snapped round and she stared at him. He saw hope in her eyes and it almost broke his resolve to keep his distance until he could work out what was going on between them, let alone between her and Dean.

She found her voice. "Tristan? What are you doing here?"

He tried to sound nonchalant, registered that even in front of Dean she hadn't objected to the name he'd used. Of course, maybe she was just shocked."Came home for a few days- just thought I'd stop by to say hello."

"Unbelievable." He heard Dean mutter and tried to control the urge to punch him.

He saw tears standing in Rory's eyes, wanted desperately to reach out and brush them away. But it would be the wrong move. She would never again be the Rory he'd chased at Chilton or even over the past few weeks. He couldn't chase her again without knowing that this Rory was really what he wanted. He was afraid that if he touched her now, he'd never be able to break free, even if he was ultimately disappointed by the person she'd become.

"What's going on, Rory?" Dean sounded petulant. He voice still held the same controlling, jealous tone Tristan had always hated.

Her eyes were still fixed on Tristan's. "Nothing's going on, Dean," she said tiredly. She tore her gaze away and stared at him. "Nothing is going on. Do you get it?"

He seemed suddenly smaller, no longer filling her whole world with guilt and regret but slumped, defeated. "I get it," he spat out, a last stand of defiance against her better judgement. He pushed past them and walked away.

Tristan's eyes hadn't left Rory's face. Staring at her had been the only thing keeping him from attacking Dean. His whole body was tense with the effort- hands clenched in his pockets, shoulders ready to fight should the need arise. Now that the other boy had walked away, the tension wasn't disappearing.

It was Rory's turn to reach out to him. She touched him timidly on the arm. "It's good to see you," she ventured.

He stared at her hand on his arm, wondering how the feather light brush of her fingers could feel like fire against his skin.

In the diner, Lorelai gasped. Luke was beside her immediately. "What happened? Because I can-" He stopped. "That's not Dean."

"I think that's Tristan," she said softly.

Luke was confused. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Lorelai could see the look on her daughter's face. "Oh, I don't know. At a guess, everything."

He shook his head and went back to work again. "Don't know why you ever let her grow up."

Lorelai smiled.

"You ran away." He didn't know what else to say, opted for a bald statement of fact.

"I didn't think you'd want to talk to me any more." Her head dropped.

He pushed a hand through his hair, his classic response when uncomfortable.

"I didn't go after you because I didn't know what to say." He half-smiled. "You took me by surprise."

"I'm sorry."

She looked vulnerable again and he caught a glimpse of the old, childlike Rory. The one that he just wanted to put his arms around and protect so that he'd always have something with him to remind him that the world still held some innocence. He struggled to answer her as that image fought with the one that screamed damaged goods. He hated himself for thinking of her that way. Paris was right- it was hypocritical.

"I thought you weren't who I thought you were. If that even makes sense."

She nodded.

"So why did you come?"

"Wanted to see how you are. And who you are." He couldn't quite meet her eye. "Besides, Paris wouldn't have let me hear the end of it if I'd written you off."

"I see." He was afraid that she did, was almost certain that if he made any kind of a move she'd respond. However, he wasn't prepared to fall into whatever it was that seemed to be between them, not yet. He was still too close to the fantasy and if she didn't match up he didn't want to end up any more hurt than he'd already been. Losing the dream would be worse than never finding her.

He decided to try a light and friendly approach, treating her as gently as he had throught most of their recent encounters. That way, he'd be able to get out gracefully if he couldn't find his way back to the certainty he'd he'd felt before. If she'd been anyone else, he'd have taken his chances and if it didn't work out, well, that was life. He couldn't risk that with Rory. The scars might never heal.

"So, Mary, anywhere in this town sell ice cream?" In the past he'd found that the best way to snap her out of any difficult conversation was to mention food. And call her Mary, of course. He was careful to do that because now she'd know that she wasn't just any Mary, but somehow still Mary to him, whatever his doubts and questions. He had a feeling she'd want to know that.

She looked surprised, then grinned at him. "The best in town is at home. Think you can handle another trip to my house?"

He smiled back, deciding she could stand a little teasing. "Well, since I'm guessing bagboy won't be there....."

She laughed, probably her first genuine laugh about the whole thing. "Or Paris...."

"And we don't have to rehearse for any plays....." He added, laughing although their eyes met again with something more than amusement.

"Come on!" She grabbed his hand and started pulling him down the street.


	12. Trusting Flaws

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: I'm really grateful for all of your reviews. Thank you- I hope you continue to read and enjoy!

She was still holding his hand as she led him down the street towards her house. He wasn't sure what that signified, wondered if he should pull away while his confusion about her continued. Then again, he repeated to himself, she was still holding his hand. Voluntarily. He had to keep glancing down to make sure he wasn't imagining it. He had seen her get rid of Dean. She wasn't upset, she wasn't crying and if she was running anywhere he'd have to go too because she was pulling him with her. And he didn't hold out much hope for his ability ever to pull away. Even if he wanted to. Her hand fit his in a way he couldn't imagine with anyone else, the innocence of the connection offering a welcome reminder him that this was still Rory Gilmore. Still his Mary, whatever her sexual status, whatever flawed choices she'd made. He was almost disappointed when they reached her house and she had to let go of his hand to open the door.

"Where did they go?" Luke peered out of the window again in the direction of Lorelai's gaze.

"What? Oh- I think she must have taken him home." She took another gulp of coffee, half-smiling to herself.

"And that doesn't bother you?" Luke stared at her in disbelief.

"Why would it bother me?" She focussed on him again.

"She's just had a very public argument with her married boyfriend and gone running home with some cocky rich kid I've heard both of you call the evil one. Who's probably just been waiting for a moment like this when she'd be vulnerable. And didn't you say you were never letting her alone with a boy in the house again?"

Lorelai stared at him. "Hey, that's my daughter you're talking about!"

He sighed. "I know. It's Rory. Can you honestly tell me you're not worried about her?"

"Like hell I'm not," she muttered, draining the rest of her coffee and standing up.

"What are you doing now?" he asked, half exasperated as she gave him a quick kiss.

"Going home," she said as she hurried out the door.

"What?"

"Well, it's not like I can leave her alone with him."

Rory's hand felt cold despite the summer heat as soon as she pulled it from his. She'd held on longer than she'd intended, afraid that, if she let go, this time he'd be the one to run away.

"So, this is it," she said timidly.

He smiled at her. "Rory, I've been here before, remember?"

She blushed. "I'd forgotten."

"Really?"

Every brief encounter he'd shared with her was burned into his mind more clearly than events that should, objectively, have figured much higher on the scale. Like graduation, like his eighteenth birthday. Why was it that back here, all he could remember was that rehearsal, the last time he'd had a chance to try and get under her skin before he'd had to leave. Even with Dean glaring at him. Once again he forced himself not to be hurt by the simple fact that he hadn't occupied her mind in the way she'd consumed his. She'd been too absorbed with Dean - and Jess, according to Paris. Whoever he was. Tristan sighed. He could do without thinking about her ex-boyfriends. Of course, it was just as well she hadn't thought about him that way. If she thought about some of his ex-girlfriends, she'd probably never have let him in the house.

She shook her head, blushing slightly as images of him leaning over her, threatening to kiss her in rehearsal flooded her mind. She couldn't lie to him.

"Not really."

Her wide eyes met his again and he caught his breath, feeling like a Romeo who'd somehow made it still alive to Juliet's awakening. He couldn't believe that he might be granted an opportunity to rewrite the ending, couldn't quite believe that he was still questioning whether the first ending had been the right one.

"Is chocolate all right?" she asked, turning away and going to the kitchen.

"Uh-yes."

He followed her into the kitchen, not really caring about the ice cream. There was so much to talk about, so many questions that he could hardly think of anything to say. He was sure, though, that her clash with Dean had been enough for one day and wished that he could lighten the atmosphere by instigating their usual innuendo charged banter.

She wasn't doing much better in the art of conversation, staring at him again and again as if she couldn't quite believe that he was there. Having admitted to some level of not-unfriendly feeling towards him and then feared never seeing him again, having him stand before her in her own home was too much to process at this point. The whole showdown with Dean didn't rate a thought in her over-stretched mind. She scooped the ice cream into two bowls, aware that he was concentrating on her as though she was performing brain surgery. She blushed again.

He cleared his throat. "So, I guess I've given the town something new to talk about? I'm sure they were watching you and Dean."

Her eyes widened in horror but he saw something resembling amusement as well.

"They'll have seen me drag you home! My reputation is truly ruined forever."

"Like it wasn't before," he teased without thinking.

This time she met his look and he was surprised at the sadness in her eyes. "I know."

That convinced him above all that she was the same Rory. He was wondering how to make it better, how to convince her that her innocence wasn't dead in his mind, when something resembling a whirlwind burst through the door.

"Rory? Rory, where are you?" Lorelai stopped as she reached the kitchen.

Rory raised her eyebrows. "Hi, Mom. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I-" Lorelai's searching eyes took in their surprised, blameless looks, the guiltlessness of the ice cream bowls. She managed to process the scene and sighed in relief.

"Mom?"

She shook her head to clear it and tried to smile. "I saw you talking to Dean and just came to see if you were all right." She glanced at Tristan.

"I'm fine. This is Tristan. I told you he was staying near Grandma on the Vineyard."

"And now he's here."

Lorelai sounded less than pleased. He offered a hand, feeling uncomfortable. Dealing with parents had always been a problem, although usually they were throwing their daughters at him, not looking at him with the kind of suspicion that made him worry about his bodily safety.

"Yes, he is." Rory looked puzzled, if a little annoyed.

"It's good to meet you, Ms. Gilmore."

"Lorelai," she corrected automatically, not bothering to shake his hand.

Rory glared at her. "Can I talk to you for a second, Mom?"

"Of course, honey." She was still looking at Tristan as if she was afraid he might steal her ice cream or maybe even the coffee machine.

"Outside," Rory said sharply. "Now!"

Even Tristan jumped at the tone in her voice and Lorelai meekly followed her daughter outside.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I could ask you the same question," Rory hissed.

Lorelai looked at her in surprise. "I came home to see if you were ok. You obviously had this huge row in the street with Dean and then you went running off with some strange boy."

"He wasn't strange! It's Tristan!"

"I guessed that, actually. And remembered that his full title was Evil One, Spawn of Satan, Bible Boy."

"So you decided I wasn't allowed to be alone with him?"

"No!" Lorelai protested vehemently and then wilted under Rory's scowl. "You've just been so confused, I didn't know what to think."

"I am not confused! I made one mistake! And I wish I hadn't but I can't take it back. How can I put it behind me if even you don't trust me any more?" She pushed her hair back from her face and stared at Lorelai, the hurt evident in her eyes.

Lorelai stepped forward and put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "I'm sorry." She smiled suddenly. "Am I supposed to trust Tristan too? That couldn't be good for his reputation!"

Rory managed a laugh. "Actually, I think you are."

"What's he doing here, anyway?"

"I don't really know. He said he came home for a few days."

Lorelai looked at her sceptically. "Home. Yes, I'm sure that was the attraction."

Rory caught her meaning and blushed. "I wish."

She turned and went back into the house, unused to being so open with her mother, no matter how close they were. Lorelai followed in an even more baffled state than before.

"Everything ok?" Tristan asked and Lorelai caught the tenderness in his look.

"Everything's fine," she answered brightly. "Good to meet you, Tristan. I'm just going, so I'll see you both later, all right?"

"Bye," Rory answered pointedly.

Lorelai extracted herself from the house and headed back to the diner, preparing to berate Luke for causing her needless panic. She might not be thrilled by the idea of the Evil One with Rory, but it was clear from the look in their eyes that whatever was going on was very real. She hoped Rory wasn't just on the rebound.

"What was all that about?" Tristan asked.

"Oh, she was just afraid I was going to steal your virtue," Rory answered, glancing at him through her lashes.

He laughed, astonished that she still had the power to catch him completely off balance.

"My what?" He went to put the ice cream back in the freezer, which had the advantage of bringing him closer to her.

"Apparently I'm a man eater now," she said matter of factly, punctuating the words with a giggle.

"You were always a man eater, Mary," he said softly, leaning in to trace the outline of her face with a finger. "You just didn't know it before."

She blushed again and he could feel the heat rising in her face. She cleared her throat, unable quite to meet his eye.

"How are things with your parents?" she asked nervously, determined to break the moment before he could kiss her. It was one thing to have decided she wanted him to, but she wanted to be sure that they'd both finished dealing with the Dean episode before getting into something else. Especially something that was already frightening in its intensity.

He took a step back, a little disappointed even though he wasn't sure that either of them were ready for a change in their relationship yet.

"Don't know. I haven't been home yet."

"Really?" She wanted to reach out and touch him now, found herself folding and unfolding her arms in a pointless gesture of discomfort instead.

He shook his head. "Stayed in my grandfather's pool house last night."

"Oh."

She could see that he didn't want to talk about it. She wasn't surprised. Even when he'd talked about military school and not going back to Hartford, his parents didn't feature much in the conversation. A hint of bitterness- that was it.

"Guess I should get it over with." She met his eyes then, saw hurt and fear there. She surprised him again by laughing.

"We really are a mess, aren't we?"

He grinned back, but the smile was quickly replaced by the lost look again. Impulsively he reached out to her and she took his hand. "Will you come with me?"

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Of course. My turn to be the knight in shining armour. Although the armour would be awfully heavy. What is the female version of knight, anyway?"

He rolled his eyes at her babbling and led her purposefully to the door, afraid he'd change his mind if they didn't go immediately. "I don't know. Perhaps we could market 'Mary' as a noun."

"I like it."

He stopped abruptly, causing her to wrench her arm and catapult back to him as she tried to continue walking. This time the grin that spread over his whole face was triumphant.

"You like it?"

She rolled her eyes and dropped her gaze. "As long as it pertains only to me."

"Agreed."

She tugged at his hand again. "Come on, DuGray. And wipe the silly look off your face!"

"Can't promise that, Mary," he said as they started walking again, watching as she smiled at the name.


	13. Facing Family

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reviewing. And please keep reading!

She stole quick glances at him as the car snaked toward Hartford. He drove fast, with an undercurrent of aggression just below the surface. She thought that she should be scared, but somehow his barely controlled speed was purely exhilarating. She didn't seem to have had time to collect her thoughts before they were pulling into a long driveway and she saw his home for the first time. There was obviously a party in preparation, judging by the catering and florist's vans and the number of people bustling in and out of the house.

"Well, this is it," he said nervously, cutting the engine and echoing her words from earlier in the day.

"Yes."

She didn't know what else to say, was shocked at the look in his eyes as he turned them towards her. It wasn't a look that she could read easily, dark and filled with something that she thought she recognised as fear.

"Are you ready to go in?"

He smiled, but it was more like a grimace. "We're here now. Time to get it over with."

She didn't wait for him to open her door, but jumped out. She tried to take his hand as they faced the door together, but he pulled it gently away. She understood and instead ducked inside behind him as they followed a delivery boy with an armful of flowers. She was too busy trying to keep up with him as he opened doors to room after room to take in anything about the house itself. He stopped abruptly in the frame of one door.

"Mother."

He expelled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Tristan."

Rory watched as the older woman came towards him and pulled him into the room. She watched as he remained stiff, motionless in her embrace.

"How are you? Welcome home."

This wasn't resembling the return of the prodigal son in the way that Rory had hoped. It didn't look much like Lorelai's effusive greeting when she'd been gone even for a weekend, either.

Tristan didn't respond and she could see that he was struggling to find the right words. Rory glanced around, noticing now that they were in the kitchen. She wondered if there was anywhere to hide, not sure that she should be watching this uncomfortable reunion. She shrank further back, hoping to disappear into the non-existent shadows as she saw his father come into the room, his eyebrows raised as he caught sight of his son.

"Ah, Tristan."

She saw his face set as he answered. "Sir."

"Your grandfather told us you were returning. To what do we owe the honour?"

He made no move towards his son but instead glanced around the room until his eyes met Rory's. "Perhaps I should say to whom do we owe this honour? Who is your friend?"

"Rory Gilmore." She didn't give Tristan a chance to answer, found her own voice ringing out with a confidence she didn't feel.

"Gilmore?" His eyes narrowed as he took her in. "Richard and Emily's granddaughter? Lorelai's girl?"

"Yes sir." Her voice was losing its assurance.

"Ah, yes. I remember that particular scandal quite well." His eyes fell on Tristan again and he smiled sardonically. "How very fitting."

She saw the glance of horrified apology he flashed towards her and tried to smile. This was no worse than much she had heard before, even from her paternal grandparents and, after all, these people didn't know her, couldn't hurt her, whatever they could do to Tristan.

"Thought it was time to see if anything had changed."

He almost muttered the words, staring at the floor. His father laughed, shortly.

"What did you think would have changed, Tristan?"

He shrugged and Rory was horrified as she saw his shoulders slump in defeat.

Tristan's mother took a step towards her husband. "Come, let us have no unpleasantness now," she said quietly, her voice tinged with a hint of a French accent. "Tristan, why don't you show Rory the grounds and your father and I shall talk?"

"Leave you alone to discuss me?" he answered angrily. "So that then you can tell me to go away again? Wasn't three years enough for you?"

Rory winced at the hurt in his voice.

"No, no." His mother moved quickly to try and soothe him. "It is a beautiful day and Rory should see our garden."

"I-" She looked at Tristan for her answer.

He sighed. "Come on, Rory, I'll show you around."

He took her by the arm and led her outside. Preparations were obviously under way for the party and he led her away to the rose garden.

"Why do you let him treat you like that?" she asked him tentatively as they settled down on a bench.

He pushed his hands into his hair and held his head. "Because he's my father. Because

maybe he's right."

The words were almost inaudible and she leaned towards him in an effort to hear him better, to understand, her hand on his shoulder. "Right about what?"

"I broke into the safe of one of his business colleagues, Rory," he said, still angry at himself, still ashamed that he had caused them to do this to him. "Paris was right. It's not like I really gave them a choice in sending me away. He's had to live it down for years."

"That's not true!"

He stared at her in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"You weren't the only one there, were you? Bowman had a key to his father's safe. I don't remember him being sent away to military school, or did his parents feel they didn't have something to live down as well?"

His breathing was shallow, the strain of being here, at home, causing him almost to hyperventilate so that he had to concentrate simply on forcing the air into his lungs. "I don't know. My parents had to prove a point or something. Probably thought if I wasn't here people wouldn't talk so much. Or at least would say they'd done something about it. They had more to lose- it wasn't something that happened in the DuGray family."

She smiled wryly. "Well, teenage pregnancy didn't exactly feature much in the Gilmore history until my mom had me."

He turned towards her. "I'm sorry for what he said. He had no right-"

"Don't be. It doesn't matter."

He looked at her curiously, saw that she meant it. He rested his head on her shoulder, hoping that some of her calmness would filter through to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair, exploring its softness, massaging his scalp.

"Why did you do it anyway?"

The question took him by surprise. He laughed. "Partly because of you."

"What?" She shot upright and her shoulder collided with his jaw. "Oh, I'm sorry."

He sat up, feeling it with his hand. "It's all right."

"Why because of me?"

"You annoyed me so much that day, telling me how well things were going with you and Dean. And telling me I was stupid for hanging around with Duncan and Bowman or at least stupid for getting caught. I had to hang around with them because my dad told me to- he was trying to set up a deal with their fathers. If I stayed away, he was angry. It wasn't much of a choice."

"And yet he sent you away?" Rory was beginning to get angry on his behalf.

"The deal was the important thing and he made it clear I'd screwed that up. He could handle the suspensions from school but when it looked like the police might get involved- well, you know the rest. My grandfather tried to stop him, but he couldn't."

"What about your mother?"

"She's never been able to stop my dad doing anything. Never really tried, either. What people would say or how they'd look at her was far more important to her. It's not like I saw her much, anyway. Either of them, really."

Rory was silent. His life had been so different to her own, even before his exile to military school. Her one recent mistake seemed to pale into insignificance. Paris might have been right about that, too. It was a big mistake, true, but not so hard to move on from so long as the only true feeling involved was guilt. She contemplated him as he sat beside her, staring into space. She'd always had some difficulty with intimacy- running from Dean, running from Tristan, in some ways running from Jess even before he'd run from her. But she'd never been alone in the way Tristan had, without any kind of support system. She wondered if he was even capable of the kind of relationship she'd begun to want from him, wondered if the isolation that seemed to have plagued him had scarred him too badly.

He knew that he'd always looked for comfort in the wrong places, the physical intimacy and emotional emptiness of a one-night stand, the hollow admiration of a hundred shallow hangers-on. Then, after he'd left, he'd found solace in his own company: hadn't wanted to look for anything further because all he'd found before had let him down. In his heart, he'd let her be the exception; in his head he'd found that his grandfather was the only one he could trust.

"I'm really sorry," she whispered and he wanted to ask for what, just like the night he'd had to leave. He was almost shaking with the strain of being back here, of talking about everything that had been buried for so long; forgotten, he'd wanted to believe. He moved away slightly, not wanting her to see his vulnerabiltity but against their better judgement she came closer, slipping her arms around him and holding him so that he had no option but to give in and cling on.

His mother found them there a little later, holding on in silence to the late afternoon warmth.

"You'll be staying here, Tristan?" She asked as though she wasn't certain of the answer.

He released Rory and stood up. "I came back. I'm staying. For now." He forced himself to meet her eyes, hating the weakness he found there.

"Good." She went to embrace him again and again he failed to reciprocate. "You'll be at the party tomorrow, then?"

He nodded. "And Rory?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"I'm glad to have met you."

She turned and walked away again, back to the house.

He took her hand again. "I'll take you home."

"Good. Do you want to stay for dinner? If you don't want to eat at Luke's I could get Sookie to make us something and we could heat it up."

He grinned. "I'm guessing you don't cook much, do you?"

"How many skills do you expect me to have? I've been perfecting so many others, I just haven't got to cooking yet. Besides, Luke and Sookie are so good that it just doesn't seem worth my while."

He pulled her hand a little closer. Suddenly it was important to have her near him. "How about I show you how it's done?"

Her eyes widened. "How what's done?"

He laughed. "Mary, what happened to your mind? We're talking about cooking, remember?"

She flushed. "I'm not used to you saying anything innocent, am I?"

"Perhaps not," he conceded. "Do you want me to cook for you or not?"

"Yes. You can cook for my mother too. Then maybe she'll stop treating you like you're evil. Wait- can you actually cook?"

"Of course."

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises!" She teased.

"Believe me, Mary, this is just the beginning."


	14. Desperately Seeking Permission

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: I really really appreciate all the reviews. Thank you all very much!

He'd left her in the car while he'd gone to purchase food. Now she was watching him relax as they travelled further from Hartford. By the time they reached Stars Hollow he was feeling almost festive. Rory, on the other hand, was growing more and more nervous as he inspected the kitchen.

"The oven doesn't really get used much," she said as he opened it and peered inside.

He raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Sometimes, Gilmore, I wonder how you and your mother survive."

"Luke's, mostly. Sometimes Sookie, sometimes pizza.... We cover all the food groups."

He regarded her sceptically. "Do you even know what the food groups are?"

She pretended to ignore him, settling onto a chair to watch him pull ingredients out of a bag. She'd insisted that he shop in Hartford to avoid running into Dean or anyone else in Doose's market.

Tristan turned to glare at her. "Are you planning on sitting there to watch me all day?"

She nodded, grinning in a manner that suggested she didn't find him as menacing as he'd intended.

"Think again." He hauled her forcibly from the chair and pushed her gently towards the door despite her protests. "You're making me nervous."

Rory giggled. "I'm making you nervous?" She turned innocent blue eyes on his and he could feel himself unaccountably start to blush.

"Yes. Go visit your mother, or Lane, or read or something. Just do it somewhere else."

"Fine. But I can't believe you're forcing me out of my own home," she glowered in mock annoyance, closing the door with rather more energy than was strictly necessary and leaving him to navigate the kitchen unaided.

She opted to visit Lorelai at the Dragonfly to warn her that dinner this evening would be courtesy of Tristan. Rory still wasn't convinced of his culinary skills, afraid that any talent in that department might be purely ego-generated. Lorelai sounded even more dubious.

"Satan can cook?"

"Stop calling him that! He says he can- I suppose we'll find out."

"Have you warned him he's cooking for Emily as well?"

"Really? Does he have to?"

Her mother nodded. "Oh yes. We might as well brighten up her day with a display of Gilmore-DuGray bonding."

She sounded very much as if brightening up her own day was the last thing it would do. Rory tried not to be offended.

"Can't you at least try to be nice?"

Lorelai sighed. "I just worry, sweetheart, that's all. You didn't give him such a great build up when you knew him at Chilton and his background- well, it doesn't exactly guarantee any ability to sustain a relationship. Believe me, I've been there."

"He's not Dad," Rory muttered, annoyed despite her own doubts earlier in the afternoon. _Or you, _she added silently in her head. "Can't you just give him a chance?"

Lorelai nodded. "Although I think your grandmother will do that for both of us."

She wasn't wrong. Tristan was almost relieved when Rory called to warn him. At least he knew how to deal with Emily Gilmore. Excessive politeness and a society mask would gain him all the points he needed from her. Lorelai, though, did worry him. He knew that her approval was paramount for Rory, especially after Dean, but he had no way of knowing how to win it. He couldn't figure her out at all. All he could come up with was a three course meal of coffee. He'd have to do better than that.

Emily was strangely subdued at the prospect of dinner cooked by a DuGray. So many odd things seemed to be going on that she wasn't sure how to react. Clearly it was a good thing that Tristan and Rory were developing a friendship. In fact, she'd like to take some of the credit for their re-introduction. But she wasn't quite sure what to make of the fact that he was cooking. It just didn't seem appropriate.

Rory had made sure to arrive ahead of her mother and grandmother. Tristan wandered out of the kitchen when he heard the door and regarded her nervously as she looked around.

"How did you do all this?"

"You like it?"

Somehow he'd managed to find candles and a tablecloth. She couldn't even remember the last time the house had seen a sit-down dinner like this. He was watching her reaction anxiously, waiting for approval.

"Yes, it's great." She glanced at him mischievously. "Are you trying to distract us from dinner itself?"

He laughed. "No need for that, Mary. After this, you'll be begging for more." He leaned in to whisper the last sentence suggestively as Lorelai and Emily arrived. Lorelai's eyes narrowed suspiciously as Rory turned red and jumped back.

"Interior design as well as cookery, Tristan?" Lorelai remarked. "That's very....... impressive."

Her tone didn't agree, but he forced himself to smile politely. "Why don't you all sit down. I'll have dinner right there."

There hadn't been much time available to him so he'd settled for a relatively simple pasta dish. He hadn't realised how nervous he was until three pairs of eyes were fixed on him, watching him dish it out. Emily's stare was rather blank- he guessed she was rather preoccupied. From what Rory had said, he didn't blame her but he'd been counting on her support. Rory's eyes were as nervous as he presumed his own to be: hardly surprising, considering that Lorelai was eyeing him like he was some kind of monster about to devour her young. He permitted himself a small smile at that idea- maybe it wasn't so far from the truth.

"Well, bon appetit."

The silence that greeted him made him even more nervous but he saw Lorelai's expression change as she took her first mouthful.

"Mmm. Tristan, this is good."

"I'm glad you like it. I'll give you the recipe if you like," he added as innocently as he could manage.

Even Emily smiled at that and Rory giggled. Lorelai glared at both of them.

"Thank you, Tristan. I don't know what's wrong with my mother and daughter but that would be lovely." She was matching his plastered on charm with her own.

Emily snorted. "Don't listen to her, Tristan. I don't believe she can cook anything other than microwave pizza."

Lorelai regarded her, open-mouthed. "I don't believe you know what microwave pizza is!"

Emily smiled serenely. "I have learned one or two things from Rory." She sighed. "It's probably for the best, now that I'll be taking care of myself."

Tristan caught Rory's head motions as she tried to signal to him to change the subject.

"Is everything all right for you, Mrs. Gilmore?" He felt like a waiter.

"Yes, thank you, Tristan. It's excellent. Where did you learn to cook, anyway?"

The question was almost absent-minded, and despite her endorsement, she didn't appear to be eating much. He groaned inwardly at her query, sensing a certain glee in Lorelai's expression at his discomfort. He hadn't wanted them to be reminded of his delinquent past, really didn't think it would endear him to either of them.

"Military school," he mumbled, though he refused to lower his gaze.

"Of course."

Emily didn't seem unduly ruffled, to Tristan's astonishment. He'd forgotten that she'd dealt with her own scandal, and that she was good enough friends with his grandfather not to judge him purely on the received wisdom circulated by his parents. Lorelai was bound to be a different story, though.

She was looking at him contemplatively. "How did that work out for you?" There was a challenge in her voice, which caused Rory to glance at her in warning.

He opted to meet it head on. "Well, I got into Harvard, so I guess it wasn't all bad." Some memory of the stories Rory had told him about her mother prompted him to expand a little. "It was a little more real than Chilton."

She nodded. "I can see how that might be." She suddenly grinned wickedly. "You left right before Romeo and Juliet, didn't you? Bet you were disappointed about that?"

Rory kicked her under the table. "Ow!"

He opted, as usual when in doubt, for charm. "I was indeed. I'm certain Rory made a beautiful Juliet."

Lorelai's grin widened as Rory shifted uncomfortably. She still didn't quite trust this boy, but that wouldn't stop her from having some fun. "She did. Although the effect was slightly distorted with Paris as Romeo."

"Paris was Romeo?"

"I don't think we need to discuss this any further!" Rory had heard enough. "Aren't you making coffee?" She addressed this to Tristan, who was looking slightly dumbstruck. She hid a smile- a speechless Tristan DuGray was certainly something to savour.

He shook his head to clear it of the rather disturbing image her mother's announcement had conjured.

"Of course. I'll be right back."

There hadn't been time to make dessert- instead he'd bought a chocolate cake on impulse in Hartford. Fortunately it too met with Lorelai's approval.

"Rory, I'm beginning to believe he's not entirely evil."

"Evil? Lorelai, what are you talking about?" It was typical that Emily would wake up enough now to come to his defence, when Lorelai seemed less threatening than she had at first.

Rory ignored her grandmother and smiled at him instead. "Not entirely evil. The exact percentage remains to be confirmed."

Emily finished her coffee and rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I think you two have a language all of your own. I apologise for them, Tristan."

He smiled. "That's all right, Ma'am."

"And thank you for dinner. It was delicious. But I think it's time I was going. Lorelai, will you take me back to the Dragonfly, please?"

Her exit was less than subtle in her effort to leave Rory and Tristan alone. Rory smiled innocently at her mother's suspicious look as she left. She was just grateful that Lorelai had spared them a lecture on the perils of being left unchaperoned. Even in front of Emily there was no telling what she might say.

She was disappointed when he announced his intention of leaving as soon as they'd cleared the table. For the first time in his life he felt like he faced a battle to get a girl's family to approve. For the first time, too, he felt like it mattered. He didn't want to jeopardize it and was afraid that if he stayed alone with her any longer he would.

"You don't have to go yet," she told him, hating the pleading tone that she couldn't entirely suppress.

"I should get home. It's been a long day." He couldn't meet her eye, not having decided if he really was going home or spending another night at his grandfather's. Failing to go home would probably incense his father, but he'd had a pleasant evening and he didn't want to spoil it with another confrontation.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded.

He'd leaned down to kiss her goodnight gently on the cheek, a move she'd used before and accepted without complaint. But he saw the look in her eyes and found his control wavering. He let himself brush her lips with his in a gesture that he told himself could still be described as friendly.

He felt it as soon as their lips met: a searing heat that made him forget everything except Rory. She was suddenly in control of all his senses. He could taste the coffee on her lips, smell nothing but the scent of her perfume. His eyes were closed yet could see all of her soul. He was aware of no other sound but the pounding of his heart in his ears. He barely knew that his hands had reached round her waist, spun her round and pinned her against the door. There was nothing in his world except her.

Rory was lost as soon as he touched her, couldn't get close enough though he was pressed against her. Then fear took over, making her pull away.

"Tristan."

He bit his lip and moved back slightly, not opening his eyes but starting to move his lips down her neck.

"Tristan."

This time her voice was more insistent and he lifted his head, his hands still fixed on her hips, his eyes holding hers. Tears had pooled in them and he sighed, defeated.

"Crying and running away again, Gilmore? You know I've never had that reaction from anyone but you."

"Not running," she said softly, still gripping his shoulders as the tears trickled down her cheeks.

He was disgusted with himself for trying once again to take what wasn't his and took a step away. He pushed his hands into his hair, his body trembling at the feelings she awoke in him, at the effort to put some distance between them.

"I'm not running," she repeated, in a stronger voice this time and he looked at her again.

She too was shaking. Her hands had dropped to her sides as he'd moved back. She folded her arms, a barrier once again between them.

"Do you want this or not, Rory?" he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

"Yes," she whispered. She raised her head again to look him in the eye. "I want you." Her gaze was naked in its honesty and he moved in to kiss her again. With effort she stopped him.

"But not now. I don't know if I can do this- now."

She saw the hurt in his eyes. He shook his head and motioned her away from the door.

"Tristan. Please wait!"

"You said it, Mary. Not now." He forced himself to keep walking.


	15. Giving Up, Giving In

Disclaimer: I still own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you very much for all the reviews. Sorry it's taken me so long to update.

Lorelai glanced around suspiciously as she opened the door. She'd managed to escape from Emily in record time, not wanting to leave Rory and Tristan alone for any longer than was absolutely necessary. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that she trusted Rory, she certainly didn't trust _him. _And she wasn't ready for another encounter like the post-Dean one. She wasn't even comforted by the fact that Tristan's car appeared to have vanished. Rory could be anywhere with him.

"Rory? Are you here?" she called out.

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"

Her daughter's voice came from somewhere beyond grumpy. Lorelai followed it to the sofa in front of the television, finding Rory slumped in the darkness, morosely flicking from one channel to the next.

"Well, I don't know. Out somewhere with your personal chef, perhaps?"

Rory glared at her. "Tristan left."

"Obviously. What happened? When I left you were both making googly eyes at each other."

Rory sighed, refusing to look at her mother. "He kissed me goodnight only it didn't feel like goodnight so I made him stop and he didn't believe that I didn't want him to stop only the timing was wrong so he left."

She stopped at last to take a breath.

Lorelai's heart sank. She hadn't quite recovered from the Dean debacle enough to deal with another lust-driven boy problem. Especially a boy she'd regarded as much less safe than Dean, recent events notwithstanding. She couldn't believe that she was beginning to think with nostalgia, fondness even, of Jess. At least where he was concerned she could count on Luke for backup.

"You didn't want him to stop?"

Rory blushed. "No."

"Then why did you stop him?"

She really didn't want to be asking questions like this of Rory. It was all too easy to consign Dean to the category of one big mistake and replace Rory on her perfect virginal pedestal. Much easier than to accept that the genie was out of the bottle and the possibility of sex would always be around in the future.

"Because I didn't want to end up in my room with him. I didn't want it to be like it was with Dean.I didn't want to be thinking that you might come home at any moment. I didn't-"

She paused. "I didn't want to wake up thinking I'd got it wrong again."

Lorelai breathed a sigh of relief. "So you didn't want to rush into anything. That's good. Sensible even. Rory-like. Understandable. Good."

"I know. But I couldn't make him see that. Of course, it probably didn't help that I could hardly string two words together coherently."

"Rory Gilmore, daughter of mine, at a loss for words? It must have been some kiss."

Lorelai remembered kisses like that. Kisses that were so overwhelming that they became the sum total of your whole existence. She remembered countless moments like that with Chris. But they'd never led to the kind of happy ever after that she wanted for Rory. You needed something more solid than that. The ground beneath the stars. The Luke. She shook her head free of that thought and looked at her daughter expectantly.

"It was." Rory blushed again, absent-mindedly touching her fingers to her lips.

There was a part of her- a large part of her- that wished she hadn't stopped him. But on the other hand, she'd had enough regrets for one summer. Given the way she felt about Tristan, she wasn't risking adding him to the list. She'd never been so drawn to anyone, didn't know how to reconcile the excitement and the oh-so-it's-you fatalism that duelled in the pit of her stomach. She still couldn't believe that Tristan was causing such feelings. And yet, even as she thought that, it seemed inevitable. It seemed that it had always been inevitable.

"Well, in that case, he probably wasn't listening any more clearly than you were talking," Lorelai observed, wishing again that she wasn't having this conversation.

She had to keep reminding herself that it was a good thing that Rory could still confide in her. Of course, she was also beginning to see that a little restraint between mother and daughter might not be such a bad idea. Was the knowing really better than the wondering?

"You'll have to try again. Only this time talk _before_ you kiss him."

She didn't really want to encourage this thing but clearly it wasn't going to go away.

"I know."

Tristan turned the music louder in his car, hoping it would drown out his thoughts. What did she mean by saying she wasn't sure she could do this now? He'd known it was a mistake to kiss her, but he'd lost his senses as soon as his lips met hers. He'd tried so hard to keep his distance, thinking that she wasn't ready to jump into something new just yet, but the way she kept looking at him, the electricity between them, had made that impossible. He was angry at himself for pushing her, angry at her for stopping him, for not stopping him sooner, for everything. For being the Mary that had tortured his thoughts in high school, the Rory that had consumed his summer. He couldn't run after her again. He'd have to wait for her to come to him. If she ever did. Patience was not a virtue in the world of DuGray, but it was one that he'd have to learn to cultivate. If she was worth it. He swore aloud as he realised even asking the question was futile. She was worth all of it. One lousy kiss was worth all of it.

He slammed on the brakes at a stop light and made a sharp turn as the lights changed. There was no way he could face his parents tonight. He'd show up for the party tomorrow but at this point civility was beyond him. What difference would another night at his grandfather's make anyway? There was a nagging voice inside his head that kept whispering that Rory might have been right about the timing, for his sake as well as her own. It wasn't just the Dean thing, though the thought that it might be was killing him. He had enough going on with his unplanned homecoming to turn him into a poor proposition for a boyfriend. Hell, as Tristan DuGray he'd never been a good proposition as a boyfriend, as anything more than a one or two night stand. Most of all, though, he hated the fact that maybe she was able to think clearly enough to see that this might not be the best time for them to be starting anything. He felt like he could hardly think at all around her. The idea that she was able to regard him dispassionately enough to make a logical decision, even while he was kissing her, hurt more than the rejection itself.

_She'd said she wanted him,_ he reminded himself. _She'd begged him to wait._

So as she could say she just wanted to be friends?

He didn't know. The scene was replaying in his head over and over again. He'd have to clutch at the straws of her words until she came looking for him. She said she wasn't running. If that was true, she'd come sooner or later. Even after their first kiss at Madeleine's party, she'd sought him out. Rory didn't like unfinished business.

He killed the lights as he drew to a halt outside his grandfather's. There was a light in the poolhouse and he wondered for a moment that he'd been careless enough to leave any trace of his presence. His grandfather had provided almost endless support, but Tristan didn't imagine he'd be too impressed by his grandson's hiding out so close to home. He yawned as he pushed the door open, wanting not to have to think any more, wanting only sleep to take away the need to think.

"Hello?"

He jumped at the voice and turned towards the source, body tensed.

Eyes peered back at him. "Tristan?"

He knew the face. His brow furrowed in recognition. "Mr. Gilmore?"

This was all he needed- a Gilmore in his last remaining refuge.

"Your grandfather must have double booked," the older man said with a chuckle.

"He doesn't know I'm here," Tristan mumbled. It would have been easier to go home- at least he knew what to expect there.

"Ah." Richard Gilmore looked slightly uncomfortable. "He offered me his hospitality. My wife and I-"

"I know." Tristan had no desire to hear about the Gilmores' troubles. They seemed to have caused him enough trouble of his own already.

"I'm sorry. I'll go-" he offered, wondering what shape he'd be in tomorrow if he just slept in the car.

"You don't have to do that." Richard tried to stop him. "I presume you're here because you didn't want to go home?"

Tristan nodded, forcing himself to meet Richard's eye.

"The return of the prodigal son?"

"Not exactly." He couldn't be bothered with polite triteness. "I believe he left of his own accord and was welcomed with open arms on his return."

Richard surveyed him in silence, eyebrows raised. Tristan stared back, refusing to make any other comment.

"Your grandfather has talked a lot about you. He's very proud of all you've achieved. You're at Harvard, aren't you?"

Tristan nodded again.

"My granddaughter considered Harvard for quite some time before fixing on Yale. But you probably know that. She was at Chilton with you, isn't that right? Rory?"

He nodded yet again, wondering what on earth to say to that. The very last thing he needed right now was a good old chat about Rory with her grandfather.

"I remember you were at her birthday party. The ridiculous one that Emily arranged. I told her that she had good taste in friends. I hope that's still true?"

"I hope so too, sir." Tristan was venturing no further into this conversation. He nodded towards the couch. "If you're happy for me to stay, I'll take the couch."

"Of course, of course. And Tristan?" Richard's voice dropped conspiratorially.

"Yes?"

"I'd be grateful if you didn't mention to Rory where I am. Or to her mother or grandmother, should you be talking to them. I'd prefer to keep a low profile for the time being."

"It's none of my business." Tristan shrugged.

"And none of mine that you are here." There was a veiled warning in Richard's voice but Tristan chose to ignore it.

"Thank you. I appreciate that." He forced courtesy into his voice instead as he settled onto the couch.

Sleep came more easily than he expected in these rather odd circumstances, a blessed release from the torment of the questions that sent his thoughts in circles.

Rory craved a similiar oblivion. She stayed on the couch, endlessly changing channels. She hadn't been able to stomach going to her room. It was too full of accusing memories that were certain to keep her awake- leftover guilt from Dean, guilt at hurting Tristan, frustration that they couldn't work it out. He'd have to face her though- apart from anything else she would be at his parents' party. She wouldn't let him go through that alone, couldn't give up on him. A strong sense of Gilmore stubbornness kicked in. What she knew was between them mattered too much to be ignored. Her jaw set in determination and at last sleep claimed her in a deep, dreamless void


	16. Making it right

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you for reviewing. Sorry I haven't updated in ages- I hope there are still some of you who want to see where this is going!

Rory stared at herself in the mirror. There was an already-discarded pile of clothes on the bed. Nothing seemed to look right. What did you wear to try and convince your almost-boyfriend that you did want to be with him?

_As little as possible, _she thought wryly, thinking of some of Tristan's conquests and the never-ending innuendos.

That just wasn't her style though. Rifling through what was left in her wardrobe, she pulled out a knee length lilac dress with a neckline that plunged a little further than she was usually comfortable with. It was probably for that reason that it had been pushed to the back of the closet. She was grateful Lorelai was still at work and therefore unable to comment.

Next, hair: up or down? Leaving it down would give her scope for hiding a little. If she needed to. But hiding wasn't what this day was about. Which would he prefer? In one way she hated thinking like this, hadn't tried to be the perfect girlfriend since that very misguided evening when she'd dressed up as a Fifties housewife for Dean's benefit. On the other hand, the idea of manipulating the master manipulator through what she was wearing held a certain appeal despite the seriousness of the situation. She pulled her hair back, pinning it up slightly messily.

She didn't want to wear more make up than usual, didn't want to appear out of character. She wanted to make sure that he'd believe her when she told him exactly who she wanted. She just wanted to look as good as she could in the hope that he'd still want her.

Once she was ready, she stared at herself in the mirror again. Was any of this wise? Even if it worked, how would she pull away again without offending him? Would she even be able to stop when he drove every sensible, lucid thought clean out of her head? She sighed. Those were chances she had to take. She certainly couldn't leave things as they were.

The drive to Hartford was endless, and too short for her shattered nerves. Finally, she had nowhere to go but into his driveway. Taking a deep breath, she handed the keys of the jeep to the valet. The door was open and she headed into the house, wondering where she'd find him. Wondering if he was even here or if he'd gone. She didn't know how deep his interest was in her, but she was certain that without her he'd never have come back here. If he'd chosen to cut her out, she didn't think he'd waste any time in getting as far away as possible again.

"Rory, dear! I'm so glad you could make it!"

Tristan's mother rushed over, kissing her warmly on both cheeks.

Rory tried to smile. She didn't know what to make of this woman. She seemed friendly, certainly a better proposition than his father. But she'd let him go to military school, hadn't put herself out for her son at all. In Rory's eyes, her judgement coloured by Lorelai's own sacrificial devotion, that was unforgivable.

Her response was direct, tinged with fear and suspicion. "Thanks. Is Tristan here?"

"I think he's in his room. You can go up to him if you'd like. Just try and bring him back to the party." Her eyes clouded. "He had words with his father earlier. I'm not sure how you'll find him."

Rory almost groaned. The last thing she needed was Tristan to be in a worse mood than he'd left her house in the night before. "Where's his room?"

She followed the directions his mother gave her and knocked the door, timidly. Before she could change her mind and go running home.

"Come in."

His voice was rougher than usual. She opened the door and saw that the reason for that could well be in the glass he held in his hand. He watched her, saying nothing as she walked towards him.

"I'm sorry." Her eyes glistened as she saw the hurt in his.

"Sorry for what, Rory? Sorry for letting me kiss you or for pushing me away?"

"Both." Her voice was barely a whisper as she clasped and unclasped her hands.

He stared at her, still unable to work out what she wanted. Or what she was doing there.

"It has to be one or the other, Rory. Tell me what you want."

He was leaning over her, threatening to kiss her again, but refusing to be caught. His eyes were cold behind their whisky glaze and she wondered how much he'd had to drink, who had driven him to it this time: herself, or his father?

She took a step back. If she answered he'd kiss her and she'd have to push him away again. Her only solution was to put some distance between them before she started talking.

"Last night I wanted to kiss you but I had to stop because if I hadn't we'd have ended up in my room and I couldn't have it be the same as with Dean, with worrying about my mother walking in, with everything..." She couldn't quite meet his eye, was blushing redder and redder as she tried to explain.

"Believe me, it wouldn't have been the same." She caught amusement in his voice as the arrogance returned to it, and forced herself to look at him. Given the way she felt about him, she couldn't even shoot his comment down as she usually would.

"I know." She blushed again.

He took a step towards her and she backed away again. He rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Mary. I'm not trying to seduce you here."

"You don't have to try." Why had she said that? It might be true, but his ego didn't need much boosting. "I mean, we have to take this slowly. Can you do that?"

He nodded. "Doesn't mean I won't try though," he said softly, almost scared that she'd hear him and know just how much he wanted whatever was between them to work.

She stepped in and took the glass from him, setting it on the desk. He watched her in surprise as she came closer again, stretching up to brush his lips with her own. He wanted to take over, but forced himself to let her kiss him as she wanted. He relaxed into her embrace, unable to remember a time when kissing wasn't just a weapon in a battle game. Her hands came up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her as she ran them upthrough his hair. His slid round her waist, the heat of his fingers searing through the fluid silk of her dress.

This time it was Tristan that pulled back, placing his hands on her shoulders and putting a little space between them.

"Moving slow, Mary?" he asked, teasingly, astonished at the pure joy he felt simply being with her: unafraid, now, that she would run away.

She nodded, resting her head against his chest. "As slowly as possible," she whispered and he heard her admission as his own.

"In that case we'd better get back to the party. It's guaranteed to ruin the moment." He kissed the top of her head before pulling back to take her hand and lead her to the door.

"You look good in that dress, by the way."

"Thanks." She was relieved. She couldn't help wondering how she matched up to some of his other girlfriends.

"You'd look better out of it," He muttered in her ear and she laughed, reaching across to smack his arm.

She couldn't quite believe her response- after all the time she'd been annoyed by his constant innuendos, here she was laughing, enjoying it.

"I didn't know Grandpa would be here!" she exclaimed catching sight of him across the lawn as they exited the house.

"What? Oh, so he is. They're all 'friends' you know," he answered, stressing the word sarcastically as he remembered how his father had reacted to Rory.

"I hope Grandma isn't here as well," she reflected.

Emily would hate to pass up an occasion like this, but she'd hate to be the centre of curious stares and whispered gossip. Rory glanced around, looking for her, wondering which reaction would have triumphed.

"I don't think there's much chance of that," Tristan told her and she raised her eyebrows in query.

"My father always sides with the man when there's a divorce. Doesn't matter who's right- just who's more likely to be of use as a business contact. Emily might be good for charity events and so on but believe me, my father won't care much about that."

Rory frowned. She could see Emily's social circle dwindling with his words. She wasn't sure how many of her grandmother's cronies were really friends or just appropriate acquaintances.

"Your grandfather isn't like that though," she said in an effort to reassure herself.

"No. It can't be easy though- trying not to take sides and befriend them both. He'll have a go anyway. Although....." His voice trailed off as he remembered that Rory didn't know where Richard was staying. She'd spent so much time with her grandmother that he was afraid she'd see his grandfather's hospitality as a betrayal.

"I do know that. I haven't seen him all summer. We should go and say hello."

"I'm not sure..."

He wasn't getting much choice in the matter. Rory tugged him over to where her grandfather was standing alone, apparently admiring the garden.

"Hi, Grandpa."

"Rory! Well, this is a pleasant surprise. And Tristan. I see you still have good taste in friends." He raised an eyebrow at Tristan as he spoke.

Tristan nodded. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Gilmore." He was determined to make it clear that he hadn't betrayed any confidence, hoping for the same in return. He couldn't risk Rory's reaction at this stage. At least until he knew what it was likely to be.

"How are you, Grandpa?" Rory was paying little attention to the cameo that was playing out between her grandfather and Tristan.

"I'm fine, thank you Rory. I haven't seen you in quite some time." His words were pointed now and Rory reddened slightly.

"I was away with Grandma." She opted for honesty, a challenge in her eyes as she mentioned Emily.

Richard sighed. "I believe I did hear that. Perhaps now you're back you'd care to have dinner with me? Your mother too, if she will. It seems that Lorelai and I have something in common at last, being the subject of gossip in this infernal community."

Rory looked away. "I'd like that. I'll ask her."

"And Tristan? You may join us too."

"Thank you." He nodded, aware of what was going on and more than a little amused at the idea of being the distraction at an uncomfortable family get-together. He was more used to being at the centre of such an event. It would make a pleasant change to be an outside observer. Although maybe not such an outsider. He smiled, looking down at Rory's hand in his. He had a sense of belonging when he was with her. It was something he wanted very much to get used to, whatever was happening in either of their families.


	17. Nice

Disclaimer: I still own nothing belonging to Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Again, sorry for the delay. I wasn't sure where this was going. I have some idea now so hope to update a bit more regularly. And thanks for the reviews!

"If you're not avoiding Grandpa then when did you last see him?"

Lorelai looked shiftily away from her daughter's raised eyebrows and suddenly penetrating stare. She hadn't known her eyes could freeze to such an icy blue.

"Where did you learn that look, missy? You could inflict serious harm." She lamely tried to change the subject.

"Probably from Paris. She gives it lots of practice."

Tristan suppressed a chuckle from his reclining position on the sofa. It had taken Rory a while to broach the subject of dinner with her grandfather, a while in which he'd been required to spend lots of time in Stars Hollow, supposedly offering moral support for whenever a moment's bravery would strike. He couldn't imagine what good she thought his presence would do, but wasn't complaining- it gave him an excuse to stay out of his house as much as possible and be around Rory. He'd noticed that her family could probably be classed as dysfunctional too; it was just that it was in a good way. Mostly. Although he had some reservations about her grandparents' current situation. And Lorelai's relationship with them. And- well, maybe all families had their problems. In some ways, that in itself was comforting.

"Anyway, the look is going nowhere until you answer the question."

Rory may have learned her evil glare from Paris, but she'd learned the virtue of persistence from Lorelai herself.

Realising she was beaten, Lorelai decided an evasive answer was better than none.

"Probably- I don't know- a while ago?"

"Well, not good enough. He misses us- and he wants to have dinner."

Lorelai sighed dramatically.

"Is this really what's going to happen from now on? Instead of one Friday night dinner from hell, we're going to have to go to two? Didn't we go through this once before when we had to go to three Thanksgivings? We'll get fat."

"I'll stay at Yale. You'll get fat."

"Mean!"

"You went to three Thanksgivings?" Tristan interjected, trying to keep track of the conversation. Sometimes he couldn't help his amazement at their stories.

"It's a long story," Lorelai told him, preparing to embark upon it.

"For another time," Rory said firmly, returning to the subject in hand.

"We should just quit dining with both of them. No good ever came of it!"

"You don't mean that."

She let out another sigh, smaller and more heartfelt.

"No, I don't. I just hate this- being caught in the middle. At least before I knew where I was when they were happy fighting with the common enemy- me. Isn't there some way we can recreate that?"

Rory wrinkled her nose, viewing her with no small degree of scepticism. "That would involve them both being in the room at the same time. You really think that would be a good idea?"

"You may have a point. All right, we'll save the direct action approach for a last resort. With backup. In fact I think backup might be required even before we employ the direct action plan. What about it?"

She'd swung round to look directly at him and he didn't know what to say. It felt good to be included although he knew that Lorelai still had her reservations about him. If the prospect of seeing Richard wasn't so obviously difficult for her, he might have thought she was deliberately trying to put him on the spot and make him uncomfortable. Instead her invitation held something of simpl e desperation. He knew that feeling where family was concerned.

He felt Rory's eyes on him too though and clearly he'd go anywhere that she wanted. He just wasn't sure that he'd really fit into this particular scenario of familial awkwardness, nothwithstanding the fact that Richard had already invited him. Added to all of that was the fact that he still hadn't told Rory he knew where her grandfather was staying, and as the days went by it grew more and more difficult. His presence in their company was sure to raise the possibility that the subject would come up. He realised that Lorelai was still watching him with something akin to the Paris/Rory glare and he'd probably been staring back with a glazed, vacant expression while he tried to make a decision. Not that there was really one to be made- it wasn't really like he had a choice.

"Uh, I guess. If it's all right with you." He reached out and laced his fingers through Rory's.

"Good."

Rory smiled down at him and Lorelai rolled her eyes theatrically. They made her want to leave the room almost as much as they made her want to stay and chaperone them.

"Friday then?" she said with more than a little resignation and they both nodded. "Fine. I have to get back to the inn."

She paused to look at them suspiciously, Rory having now sunk to the couch beside Satan. She hadn't quite managed to get rid of the old nickname in her head, however much the evidence -and Rory- insisted he'd changed.

"Don't you two have anywhere else to go?"

"No- why?" Rory turned her most innocent expression towards her mother.

"No reason. Have fun!" She turned back as she reached the door. "But not too much fun-"

"Please just go," Rory begged, wishing she'd outgrown the blushing stage. The more time she spent with Tristan , the more she felt she should have developed some immunity. At this point, though, she was beginning to believe it was permanent.

As soon as the door had closed, Tristan pushed himself into a sitting position. "I don't think Lorelai trusts me with you."

"What makes you think it's you? I don't think she trusts me around you." She turned and leaned in to kiss him and he pulled her back into his original recumbent position.

"Maybe you're right."

He nodded as her lips left his and she rested her head on his chest. At this stage, they were both determined not to cross the most innocent of boundaries. There was too much at stake for both of them. But the way he felt, and the way she responded to him, he couldn't exactly blame Lorelai if she didn't trust either one of them.

Rory shifted against him and he wondered what she was thinking. He knew that she was still afraid of letting him be another mistake, terrified of him damaging her already fragile relationship with Lorelai.

He couldn't risk being that mistake, screwing this up when he knew- when he'd known from the first time he'd seen her again- that it had the potential to be everything he'd ever wanted. If his old friends from the Chilton days could see him they wouldn't recognize this sap, completely content with his girlfriend sprawled chastely on top of him, as their self-styled King of old. He didn't care. She saw him for exactly what he was.

They both knew all his time wasn't only spent in Stars Hollow just because of his need to be near her. After all, it wasn't that she couldn't drive, or wouldn't willingly have travelled half an hour to spend a day with him. He knew that she needed to spend time with Lorelai, didn't really mind that more often than not he was required to be the third wheel in their remarkable relationship. Lorelai might never entirely trust him, especially since the one of Rory's boyfriends she'd thought was safe had betrayed them both. But he needed to be there to prove to all three of them he could fit into her life.

Watching the effort she made for her family, and with some pushing from his grandfather, he'd persevered with his own parents in his own small way. They knew where he spent his days and didn't question it. They also knew he spent his nights in their house, alone, and made the effort to eat breakfast with them every day. These were the little things that they were beginning to accept as part of their household routine. His presence, limited though it was, was becoming part of their life. These were the steps that he took to belong to them again, on his own terms. Their breakfasts might be stilted affairs: polite, unyielding, at least until his father left for work each day. Afterwards, though, when he was left alone with his mother, they'd managed to make a little progress. He knew that this mattered to her as well as to him, could see now that perhaps there had been guilt for her weakness where his treatment was concerned.

"Rory matters to you, doesn't she?" she'd asked him that morning, after her usual question about his plans for the day. It wasn't usually much of a conversation, but it offered a normalcy he found himself craving more and more as the days went by.

She'd asked it almost unconsciously, loving the way that her son's expression softened every time the Gilmore girl's name was mentioned.

He looked at her sharply, unwilling to get into a discussion with a woman he still considered a stranger in all but blood, fearing an accusation, of what, he didn't know. But then he'd seen the warmth in her smile, and realised from somewhere far within that she found pleasure in seeing him happy. He nodded, couldn't help but grin back. Rory filled him with joy, which wasn't something he'd even been sure he could recognise before.

"What are you thinking?" she asked softly, a little anxiously, raising her head a little to better check his expression. She couldn't read all of him yet, and the silences frightened her when he disappeared into his thoughts and she couldn't follow.

He shrugged. "That this is nice," he said simply, kissing the top of her head.

She smiled, relaxing again. Nice meant everything, for now. It meant all of the things they weren't yet ready to say.


	18. Interludes and Revelations

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long- I don't have as much time as I'd like to update. But I haven't finished with this story yet...

In desperation she'd offered to go with him to Hartford, not wanting to be left alone for with her mother for the couple of hours before dinner with her grandfather. She had no doubt that as soon as they left, Lorelai would call Luke and he'd have to deal with the state she'd worked herself into, even though he wasn't exactly relishing the evening himself.

Tristan glanced over at her as he drove, watched the worry flitting across her face with every passing thought. He knew exactly how she'd spent her later teenage years trying to prevent arguments between her mother and grandparents. It mirrored the situation in his own family, where his grandfather had been the peacemaker. This time, having witnessed Lorelai's reaction to the idea of dinner with her father, he wasn't sure that peace was a possibility. He also knew that it took a lot for Rory to leave her mother to her own devices at a time like this, especially wihen she had to deal with the added stress of Luke meeting Richard as her boyfriend. Obviously it was taking its toll on Rory- no-one would volunteer to visit his parents' house just to escape from their own. He noticed that he was still thinking of it as their house- it wasn't home for him again yet. He wasn't sure it ever would be.

"I won't be long," he said, pulling into the driveway. "I can't believe I didn't bring a jacket and tie with me today."

"Relax," she said softly, and he almost laughed. He had his own concerns about this evening, there was no doubt about that, but it was clear that her own far outweighed them. There was less at stake for him than any of the others that would be attending- his role as her support and their distraction would be the easiest of the evening.

She climbed out of the car before he had a chance to walk round and open the door for her,

managing to feel guilty as he took her hand and led her to his room, although his only intent was to try to avoid his parents. He was worried that despite their uneasy truce, his father would find some way to drive her away with his rudeness, worried too that his mother would be so pleased by her presence she'd scare Rory off. He wasn't ready yet to test the strength of their fragile relationship against them. For her part, she didn't know where the sense of guilt had come from. She'd been in his room before, even if her own remained off limits to him. She just didn't want his father to root her further in the realm of scandal, though she knew that parental approval wasn't something that would increase her worth in Tristan's eyes.

He grabbed the more formal clothes the dinner demanded and went into the bathroom to change, leaving her to stare curiously around his room. He would have expected her to be drawn to the bookshelves, but was surprised when he came out to find her looking at the Chilton yearbook.

"I didn't think you'd have one of these," she explained, turning the pages.

"Well, these are the people I spent most of my life with," he said, straightening his tie. "I figured I'd run into some of them again and it wouldn't be bad to have it since circumstances prevented any incriminating photos of me in it."

"I know," she said softly. It had occurred to her that there was nothing in it to suggest the major role he'd played in the high school experience of many of those in the book, including herself. When she'd got it there had been other things on her mind- like Jess's disappearing act and the broken heart he'd left behind. But like it or not, Tristan had managed to get under her skin in the time she'd been at Chilton with him, and even then it had caused her an unaccountable twinge to realise there was nothing to indicate his presence in that part of her life. They hadn't been good enough friends for her to have any other pictures of him.

That was one reason he'd been anxious to have a copy of the yearbook, another reason he'd bothered to bring it back here. The picture of Rory that it contained was all he'd had to remind him that she had existed at all. Sometimes it wasn't a reminder he'd chosen to cherish, often feeling like crap when he remembered how he'd treated her. Or how she'd treated him. The newness of their relationship meant that the three year old wound she'd caused when she'd said she hated him hadn't yet entirely healed. But he also knew on the rare occasions he looked at it that she'd shown him that he could be and have something more than he'd chosen at sixteen. It reminded him now how far he'd come.

She closed the book rather sadly and looked up at him. "I thought I was grown up when those pictures were taken, but now..."

"We've all changed," he assured her, sitting down beside her. He nudged her gently, hoping to provoke a smile. "After all, you even told me Paris has mellowed."

He was rewarded with a soft giggle. "I guess we have changed- even you."

Tristan caught the flicker in her eyes as she looked up at him and laughed. "If there was a picture of me in there, you'd see I was just as handsome then as I am now. You just didn't want to admit it."

"Your ego was certainly just as well looked after," she muttered, but the sight of him in his jacket and tie reminded her of how he'd looked in his Chilton uniform and made her wonder, for once, at the self control of her younger self.

"And you're just as beautiful now as then."

His voice was little more than a whisper and she flushed at his words. They both knew she didn't look quite as innocent as she had back then but he wanted to be sure that she knew he wasn't just with her in a belated attempt to Magdalene his Mary. They hadn't talked much about Dean since they'd started to figure things out, and Tristan was afraid she still feared he thought of her as damaged goods. The vulnerability in her eyes matched his own as she leaned in to kiss him with a wealth of feeling.

"Actually you're more handsome now than you were then," she said when she pulled away, then grimaced at her words. She had meant to return his compliment, but not exactly like that. Every time she kissed him she lost her ability to form any coherent thought.

He fell back on the bed, grinning. "Does that mean you did find me handsome then?"

She hid her head in her hands. "I can't believe I'm feeding the monster ego. I meant there's more to you now - or maybe you're just prepared to show it."

"You mean I'm not just a pretty face?"

She rolled her eyes. She'd never come across someone so secure in the knowledge of their own attractiveness. On the other hand, she'd never come across someone for whom the security was so deserved. She decided not to answer since explanations didn't seem to be helping.

"Come on," she said, pulling him up. "We have time for coffee before we go back."

"Here?" He looked surprised and a little worried.

"I'm sure there's coffee somewhere in this house- and I know you know how to make it.You cannot possibly expect me to get through this evening without having coffee first."

She was already half way through the door. He shook his head, following. Her addiction was bound to get them into trouble sooner or later. The odds of escaping without running into either of his parents had just been greatly reduced.

He was almost relieved when it was only his mother they found in the drawing room.

"Tristan, Rory. What a lovely surprise!" She rose to greet them both warmly. "What brings you over here? Are you staying for dinner?"

Rory still unsure what to make of this woman, smiled at her weakly and turned to Tristan for help.

"No, we're having dinner with Rory's grandfather," he said. "I just had to come back to get changed."

His mother smiled a little sadly. "Perhaps another time," she said.

"I'd like that," Rory said, noticing her resignation. Tristan glanced at her, questioning, and she shrugged as his mother turned away.

She'd noticed that their exchange was warmer, more natural than she'd seen before, could see that his mother was making an effort and he was responding to it as best he could. She felt suddenly sorry that they hadn't managed to come here at all, that she hadn't been any real part of his attempted reconciliation with his parents since the day of their party. Of course, she didn't want to push him, or, given his father's reaction to her, make things harder for Tristan or for them. But however little respect she had for Tristan's mother's failure to stand up for him, she could see that each of them still needed the other. Not for the first time, she wished they could have stayed on Martha's Vineyard a little longer, where her grandparents' divorce, Tristan's family problems and her own guilt and confusion seemed a little further removed.

"I'll get the coffee," he said, reluctantly leaving the room. He knew that Rory was too shy to say anything much, and hoped that his mother wouldn't try too hard to force her.

"I'm glad to see you with my son," she said as soon as he was gone.

"I'm happy to be with him," Rory said sincerely.

His mother smiled. "I'm glad to see that too. He's obviously happy to be with you- I like to see this side of him. It's not something I would have expected. I think you are good for him."

"We fill each other's gaps," Rory answered hesitantly, unconsciously quoting _Rocky. _

She smiled again. "That may be true. And I may not know Tristan well -so much time has passed- but I see the way he looks when he says your name. He is in love with you."

Rory's face flamed and her eyes flashed in hope before she remembered that his mother didn't really know him well enough to be able to tell. She wouldn't be able to believe that until she heard him say it himself, and she didn't think they were close to declarations of that nature. Yet. Even using that word in her head filled her with a joy that almost overcame the fear she felt at the realization that she was beginning to rely on a future with him.

Isobel DuGray smiled, certain by the girl's expressive face that she felt the same way about her son, even if neither of them was ready to admit it. She was glad- she didn't want to think of him being hurt again. She knew better than anyone that he'd been hurt enough. She was simply relieved they hadn't destroyed him entirely, grateful he'd shown any sign of letting her back in. She didn't think she deserved it.

"Coffee," he announced, bringing it in.

Rory blushed again, awareness of his mother's comments making it difficult for her to look at him. But their hands brushed as he handed her a mug, and as she caught his eye, she sensed a security in their relationship that felt simply like home.


	19. Holding On

Disclaimer: By now you know they're not mine. As if it was ever in doubt!

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews- they make me very happy! And sorry I can't promise more frequent updates- though this is a little faster than usual. Hope you enjoy!

Lorelai herself couldn't have explained why she was taking her mother's side in the separation. If anyone knew how difficult Emily Gilmore could be to live with, it was her. Then again, perhaps some of her hostility was because she wanted her father to approve of Luke ridiculous though that idea was. She wasn't about to admit that she still wanted her parents to be proud.

Tristan had figured out as much as he could, unable this time to rely on Rory for interpretation of her family. She was clearly just as confused as he was himself, having insisted on travelling to the restaurant with him alone in an effort to avoid Lorelai before dinner. Of course, understanding family hadn't been high on his list of priorities, at least until recently. He was well aware that every family was screwed up in some way. That much seemed unavoidable. But mostly he'd watched a warmth in his friends' families that simply didn't exist in his own. Even that hadn't left him with any sense of envy. Families were something you had to put up with as best you could. If it was better than that- well, you were lucky. If worse, avoid as far as possible.

He pulled into a space outside the restaurant.

"Ready?" he queried, watching her chew on her lip as he killed the engine.

She nodded and he leaned over, giving her hand a quick squeeze and kissing the top of her head.

"It's not up to you to make sure they get along," he reassured her, knowing she'd played the peacemaker role on many occasions.

"I know." She tried to smile. "But I want them to."

She was conscious of all of them as Tristan led her through the door. They were the last to arrive, just as she'd hoped, though she felt instantly guilty as she registered Luke's sigh of relief at their arrival and her mother's glare at their tardiness. Her grandfather was already wearing the look of mild disapproval that she'd dreaded, though it lifted as he stood to greet them. The warmth with which he shook Tristan's hand wasn't lost on her and she was grateful for that, though she still distrusted its reason.

Lorelai's glare had shifted to Tristan and for once he knew what it meant. She was simply jealous that her father had accepted him, despite his dubious record, on what to the best of her knowledge was name alone, while Luke, kind and reliable- steady was the word he would have chosen- would have to prove himself because his antecedents failed to do so.

They made it through the first course with forced civility, Luke sitting stiffly while Tristan and Rory tried to take hold of the conversation. After telling her she couldn't make it run smoothly, he was trying to do just that himself. It was never going to be possible. The only comfort Tristan could see was that Richard would never be prepared to discuss the divorce in Luke's presence since he was a virtual stranger, whatever his relationship with Lorelai. After a few half-hearted attempts to engage Luke in discussion about business or fishing, he was forced to give up. He wasn't sure Lorelai had yet uttered a word.

"I was speaking to your father the other day," Richard observered to Rory.

"Really?"

Rory glanced sharply at her mother, her look a warning not to push this conversation.

"Yes, Lorelai, really. I told him I would be seeing you both and he was sorry that he couldn't join us."

"Did you invite him?"

There was a challenge in her words and it was Luke's turn to look at her in alarm.

"Not really, Lorelai. We were talking and the subject arose and that was it."

"I didn't realise you and Christopher talked."

"It was a business call." Richard was starting to sound exasperated. "Surely it wouldn't have been a problem for him to join us."

His eyes fell on Luke. "Unless he isn't yet aware of your new - circumstances."

"That's none of your business."

They could all see the way that Luke's face had fallen with that sentence, knowing it meant that she hadn't told Christopher. They were all aware that Lorelai's engagement to Max had effectively ended with the call to Christopher that told him of her plans. She didn't know why she hadn't told him for so long then, and she wasn't sure what was preventing it now. But she did know she didn't want to discuss it over dinner with her father. She did what she always did when cornered- she attacked.

"Did you tell him about your new circumstances?"

"As a matter of fact I did. Although he already knew. The news would seem to have travelled fast."

"Oh, it did. Would have been nice if you could have told your daughter and granddaughter yourself though."

Rory's head had dropped, her face flushed. She knew the tone in her mother's voice, knew from experience that this wasn't going to end well. Tristan rested his hand gently on her knee and her fingers closed round his.

"I knew that Rory was staying with Emily. I didn't want to make things awkward between you."

His voice remained calm as Luke shifted uncomfortably, wanting to be anywhere but there. He hadn't been looking forward to this evening. With good reason, it seemed now.

"How thoughtful." The words were biting. "Yet somehow you were able to tell Christopher. And make judgements about what I choose to tell him about my life."

"Lorelai, calm down." Richard sighed. "Perhaps I should just go."

"Grandpa, no." Rory got to her feet as Richard prepared to leave.

"I'm sorry, Rory. I would like very much for you and Tristan to join myself and Tristan's grandfather for dinner sometime soon. Luke, it was good to see you."

""Another time," Luke muttered without enthusiasm.

"And Lorelai?"

"Yes?"

"You might want to ask yourself why you haven't told Christopher."

"Well, that went well," Lorelai said bitterly as they watched him walk out of the restaurant.

"You did keep pushing him," Luke commented.

"He just made me mad, talking about Chris."

"Why haven't you told him?"

Tristan looked down in embarrassment at Rory's question. She might have wanted him there but this was definitely none of his business. He glanced at Luke in silent apology but it was obvious that his presence was the last thing on the other man's mind.

"I haven't talked to him much recently. I was just waiting for the right time."

"Could you excuse us for a minute?"

Luke got abruptly to his feet, pulling Lorelai up with him and walking her out the door.

"When was the right time going to be?" he inquired as soon as he got her outside.

"I don't know. I'll know when it is right though."

"When, Lorelai?"

"I don't know."

He stopped pacing in front of her. "I've waited for this- for us- for a very long time and now you can't tell your ex-boyfriend we're together. That's encouraging, Lorelai. Very encouraging."

She was close to tears. "You have to understand that Chris and I have been through a lot-"

"Do you honestly think I don't know that? But so have we, Lorelai. I thought we had something worthwhile here. If you're still stuck in the past then obviously I'm wrong."

"Obviously."

She didn't mean it but she saw the look on his face as she snatched her keys from her purse, climbed into the Jeep and drove off.

He watched her leave as Rory and Tristan hurried out of the restaurant behind him.

"Guess I need a ride home," he said awkwardly.

"No problem," Tristan said easily.

"She'll be back," Rory said soothingly.

"Are you sure?"

She didn't know how to answer that question, still wasn't sure after they'd dropped Luke off and Tristan drove her home. She really didn't want to think about a possible conflict between her father and Luke. It really would be the triangle from hell.

Lorelai wasn't there when they reached the house. In one way Rory wasn't surprised, was fairly certain she'd be well on her way to Boston by now. She wasn't sure that was a good thing though. If Lorelai was certain about Luke, there was no reason to go running off to Christopher, no matter what Richard said.

"Want me to stay for a while?" Tristan asked and she nodded gratefully.

"You didn't get a chance to eat much. Should we order a pizza?" he asked as she went into her room, mumbling something about getting changed.

"Good idea," she called, aware now that she was hungry. There were very few things that drove away her appetite, though the idea of Lorelai breaking up with Luke was one of the better suppressants she'd come across.

She wandered back out of her room, now clad in a T-shirt and her pyjama shorts to find Tristan looking through the DVDs. He turned as she stood behind him, grinning.

"Don't you have anything good here?" he complained, teasingly. It was something he'd grumbled about at length on several occasions already.

"Good is a matter of opinion," she informed him.

"Oh really?"

"Really," she giggled as he stood up, leaning down to kiss her.

"Do you think your mom and Luke will be all right?" he asked more soberly, slipping his arms round her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. She has this thing with my dad that always comes back, but they never work it out. Luke's been a big part of our family for so long and they're so right together. I don't want them to end. But then with Dad..." She sighed, realising she was going round in circles.

"It's OK," he said softly. "Here, I'll watch whatever you want."

The sad eyes brightened. "You sure you can handle that, Mr. DuGray?"

"A one time offer, Miss Gilmore. Plus I know that we won't get much watching done."

The smirk of which she had unaccountably grown fond was out in force and she laughed.

"You think, do you?"

She was spared his response by the ringing of the phone.

"Mom?"

"I'm on my way to see Christopher."

"I worked that out." Although it was her father, Rory couldn't help displeasure from creeping into her voice.

"I have to tell him."

"And then what?"

There was silence. "And then I'll know."

"Know what?"

"Sorry, Rory, I have to go. I'll call you in the morning."

She hung up before Rory could say anything else. She put the phone down and turned back to Tristan, who was now sprawled on the sofa as comfortably as he could manage in fairly formal attire. His tie was gone and the top buttons of his shirt were open. He wished he'd still been carrying a change of clothes in the car for nights he might spend at his grandfather's. He opened his arms to her now and she cuddled close to him, glad of the security he offered.

Hours later she lay curled against him, watching _Pretty In Pink, _the empty pizza box and soda cans on the floor in front of themIt hadn't been her brightest idea, given the triangular nature of the plot, but at least he hadn't complained. Or tried to distract her. She was growing more and more afraid that Luke would turn out to be Duckie, though, especially as experience had taught her that a happy ending for her mother and father was well nigh impossible.

His hand was gently rubbing her back in a soothing manner as she realised she needed a distraction from the movie as well as from reality. She leaned further in to kiss him, a longtime river of kisses whose intensity he refused to increase. He couldn't help but catch the look in her eyes as she pulled back to unbutton his shirt and he swallowed, not wanting to stop her.

"Knew you couldn't resist," he said huskily as her hands started to explore his chest and her lips moved back to his.

Control was starting to desert him as this time she kissed him harder and his hands fisted in her hair before he pulled her onto his lap. His hands had made it under her T-shirt to the smooth expanse of her back, his lips on her neck, before she pulled back slightly.

"Will you stay with me?"

The words, whispered, were all he had wanted to hear from her for so long. But he saw the alarm in her eyes as she spoke, realising what she'd said.

"I mean-"

"I'll stay as long as you want," he said gently, withdrawing his hands from under the T-shirt and hugging her closely in an effort at reassurance.

"I'm sorry," she whispered a little while later.

"For what?"

"I'm not ready- at least not here." He knew what she meant in the broken tone of the words. With him, in her room, the ghost of her mistake with Dean would be all around them. It wasn't something he wanted to be a part of either. What was between them deserved better than that. But he didn't know how to tell her that, so he just held her and kissed her softly.

"It's all right," he said at last. "But I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

"Then come on." She stood up, taking his hand and leading him to her room.

"Is it OK...?" he let the question trail off as she laughed, nodding as he took off his trousers, the shirt having gone already. She trusted him now, absolutely.

He climbed into the bed, pulling her to him so that her back rested against his chest, her head tucked under his, bare legs brushing against each other.

"Good night," he said softly, kissing the side of her head.

"Good night," she replied, happy beyond reason just to be with him like this.

He stayed awake long after she had fallen asleep, only giving in to sleep himself so that he could wake up with her still in his arms.


	20. Wishing the World Away

Disclaimer: I still own nothing related to Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thank you for reviewing. Hope there are still a few of you out there who want to see what happens!

He smiled as he felt her stir in the circle of his arms. He'd been awake for a while now, had never quite managed to shake off the early morning routine after military school.

"Morning," he said softly, not wanting to startle her.

"Morning," she answered, nestling closer. She moved to turn into him, smiling. "I could get used to this."

He laughed. "So could I. It's such a cliche, though- I'd have thought you could do better than that."

She tried to squirm free to smack him but he held her tightly.

"I could- if I had coffee first."

"Then we should see about that."

He kissed the top of her head and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed, not really trusting himself to spend longer there with her.

"Tristan?"

Her voice was tentative and he turned to look at her, slightly concerned.

"Thank you for staying."

He smiled again, relieved. "No problem."

"No, really, thank you. Waking up with you- here- is the only first that matters now in this room."

She saw his shoulders tense as he realised she was referring to Dean. That wasn't something he cared to think about, even now. But then he saw the look of vulnerability mixed with absolute trust in her eyes and his heart swelled as he realised what she was saying.

"Maybe you're doing all right without the coffee after all," he said, smiling.

"Blasphemy! May the coffee gods strike you down and make you drink decaf!"

He sighed. "OK, OK. Coffee. I'll drop you at Luke's on my way home. I need some clothes and I want to try and make it back there before breakfast."

There was silence. He hadn't expected her to leap out of bed at the prospect, although where Luke's coffee was concerned he wouldn't have been surprised if she had. He wondered if she was annoyed that he was going home- or just as surprised as he was himself that he'd called it home.

"Rory?"

"Luke's," she said in a small voice.

"You can't avoid him," he said gently, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "And you shouldn't."

"I know. I wish I knew what Mom was doing, though."

"Call her," he suggested.

"I'm not sure I'll know even if I talk to her. I don't think she knows herself."

"Call your dad."

She shook her head. "That would be like going over her head or something."

"Then don't call them." He pulled her up. "Luke will still give you coffee."

She smiled, the tension fading. "Promise?"

"How could he say no?"

His tone was naked in its honesty, to the point that he was embarrassed. He simply couldn't imagine anyone denying her anything she asked. She blushed, knowing that he wasn't really talking about Luke any more.

"We should go if you want to get back for breakfast," she said in an attempt to change the subject.

"I'll let you get ready," he said, heading for the door like the gentleman he was trying to be.

Minutes later she was in his car, silent with nerves at the idea of going into the diner she'd frequented every day for most of her life. He watched as she got out of the car, waiting a while to see how she'd cope. He hadn't wanted to follow her inside, thought she'd do better with Luke on her own.

He was still there when she came out, clutching her cup of coffee. To go.

"What happened?"

"He's going fishing."

"What? Now?"

"It's what Luke does when he has something to deal with. I think the last time was when Jess and I got into the car accident and my mom blamed Jess and Luke knew it wasn't his fault. This time he knows she's gone to Christopher. He needs to get away before the whole town stops by to see how he's doing."

"Strange place you live in, Gilmore."

"You get used to it."

"Do you think they know I stayed at your house?" He was curious about the gossip she insisted was the town's main currency as well as trying to give her something else to think about.

She looked at him incredulously. "With this car parked outside? You really have no idea, do you?"

"Probably just as well," he muttered.

They fell into silence as he drove, Rory sipping her coffee reverently, as though she hoped it would grant her the power of clarity over all that was going on that she didn't understand. He was distracted himself, hadn't thought about leaving her back home until he was at the Hartford exit. "I'm sorry- is this all right?"

"Breakfast with your parents? How bad can it be?"

He was grateful that her tone was ironic, wouldn't have known what to say if she'd been serious. He couldn't know that even a mealtime in his madhouse held greater appeal than whatever leftover junk food she could find in her own empty home. So he continued in silence until he was stopped outside, with nowhere left to let her escape.

"Wait here," he said eventually, ushering her inside and pushing her into what she expected to be a coat closet. It turned out to be a study. She'd never get used to houses like this, even after years of visiting her grandparents. She wondered again what would happen to their house if they really went through with the divorce. She hadn't thought about that in a little while, had been too concerned with how it was affecting her mother, not to mention what was going on with Lorelai herself.

She was startled as a voice came at her from the chair in the corner.

"Rory?"

"Yes?"

The voice didn't sound as displeased as she'd have expected his father to be. She squinted into the glare from the window, trying to see the person to whom the voice belonged. He was walking towards her now, grey-haired, distinguished, with a strange resemblance to Tristan that was familiar, though she didn't exactly recognise him. Then recognition dawned.

"You're Tristan's grandfather. It's good to meet you." She wasn't sure now if it was his resemblance to his grandson that seemed familiar or the fact that she'd seen him in the distance at her grandparents' gatherings.

"It's good to meet you too, Rory. I'd say I'd heard a lot about you but it wouldn't be entirely true. Tristan doesn't tell me much."

Her eyes dropped, embarrassed now, then shot up as he continued.

"He doesn't have to. He's happier than I've ever seen him. And if you're willing to sit through breakfast with his parents it's with good reason."

He pulled a face and she giggled. "It's the least I could do." A shadow crossed her face as she remembered just how true that was, how she'd come to owe him for her own version of the family gathering from hell the night before.

"Oh?" His eyebrows were raised but Tristan had come back in before he could ask any more.

"Grandpa? What are you doing here?"

"I have a meeting with your father after breakfast. It's usually better to face such things on a full stomach," he added to Rory.

"Don't make her more nervous," Tristan said, taking her hand. "Well? Ready to face the firing squad?"

"It won't be that bad," she said wonderingly, trying to ignore the men as they raised their eyebrows.

"You haven't seen enough yet to know how bad it can be?" Tristan asked her incredulously as they made their way to the breakfast room. She glared at him, hoping not to be reminded.

"Rory, it's lovely to see you!"

He was forced to drop the hand he'd been holding for reassurance, though he wasn't sure if it was for hers or his, as his mother rushed to embrace her effusively. He knew, as Rory did, that this was her attempt to ingratiate herself with him, to find a way through to him after the years she'd left him in the cold. Oddly, he didn't really mind. At least with all her faults- he saw them now as weaknesses, fears that she couldn't get beyond, before- she was trying. That mattered to him.

"It's good to see you too." She was a little taken aback but returned the greeting as best she could, knowing that this acceptance by either of his parents was important for all of them.

"Tristan."

His father glanced up from his paper to acknowledge them, only nodding at Rory. _More civil than the first meeting, _she told herself wryly.

"I was just going to tell Tristan and Rory that they should take a trip to Martha's Vineyard before they go back to college," his grandfather announced as they turned to him in surprise. "After all, the house is sitting there empty since I've had to come back. They might as well enjoy it."

Tristan's father shrugged. "Whatever you think." He sounded bored. "I'd have thought they'd wasted enough of this summer, but you always did like to spoil him."

Tristan moved to speak, but Rory's hand on his stilled him briefly. "That's very kind of you," she said to his grandfather. "It would be good to have a break before the summer's over."

She chose to ignore his father as he sighed heavily, disapprovingly. She hadn't failed to notice his mother's sigh as well, regretful as she realised he'd be gone again.

"It's a wonderful idea," Isabel said brightly, though her eyes shone with the fear of loss. "I wouldn't say Tristan's wasted his summer by coming home, though, dear."

She spoke with greater spirit than he'd ever had cause to expect from her in the past. "I wouldn't either," Tristan said, smiling in acknowledgement. Things between them would never be perfect, tainted with the hatred of hurt that had shaped his teenage years. But he was glad to have mended some of what had been destroyed between them. He didn't hold out the same hope for his relationship with his father. Forced civility seemed to be the best he could expect, at least for now.

"Good," his grandfather said briskly. "No point in hanging around then. You have your keys anyway. Why don't you head off today?"

He glanced at Rory and she shrugged. There was nothing in Stars Hollow for her to hang around for at the moment. In fact, she'd be glad of a change of scenery while things sorted themselves out between her mother and Luke. And they only had a few days anyway before they had to face the fact that they'd be heading back to different colleges. That was something they hadn't talked about yet. There had been so much going on that the idea of a few days' peace to get used to being together without any drama had seemed like an out of reach dream. Being Rory, though, she was instantly concerned that there would be nothing between them once all the crises that had plagued their summer were removed. Then she looked at Tristan. However it had started, he was more than her crisis management. She couldn't imagine any more wanting to be anywhere other than where he was.

For his part, the relief of being away from all the pressure of being at home was settling in with the very idea of escape. Sometimes he could hardly believe he was part of her life now. He'd gladly deal with all her family problems as well as his own if that would bring them closer, but the break before they had to leave for college would be more than welcome. They hadn't had much chance to enjoy just dating without a whole world of angst.

She watched as he made his farewells, noticed the hug his mother gave him, awkward despite its sincerity, heard him promise her that he'd be back soon. And then he was extending his hand and she was taking it gratefully, glad to be free of everything but him. She was beginning to realise that running would never be an option again, unless she shared her route with him.


	21. Lazy Days

She hadn't said much in the couple of days they'd spent in his grandfather's house

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's still reading- and everyone who's reviewed- I really appreciate it.

She hadn't said much in the couple of days they'd spent so far in his grandfather's house. At first it hadn't bothered him. He was happy just to be with her, here, without any of the drama her family or his had to offer. So they talked about music, books, politics, everything- and nothing- and he learned to appreciate the quiet moments.

But he knew that she checked her phone every time she thought he wasn't looking, hoping for a message from Lorelai. It was obvious that the silence was killing her. And he had a suspicion there was something else troubling her. He'd noticed too much staring into the distance when she swore she was reading. He suspected that she lay awake at night, even the soothing thud of his heart under her head not lulling her to sleep- since that first night in her house, there had been no question that he'd share her bed, chaste though that arrangement remained.

"Why don't you call her?" he asked one afternoon, catching her staring again at the phone.

She shrugged. "What would I say? Sorry, Mom, but I don't think Dad's any good for you."

"If that's what you think. Surely it has to be better than hanging on to see what happens?"

She shook her head. "Not an option. She makes her own decisions. Remember Mr. Medina?"

He nodded. "What happened there anyway?"

"She called off the wedding after telling my dad she was getting married. I can't imagine what that did to Max…… We went on a road trip. To Harvard, in the end. That was when all roads led to Harvard……."

She trailed off.

"Why did you go to Yale?" He was curious. They hadn't talked much about their choice of college, though she'd told him plenty about the paper, and Paris, and her classes.

"It just made more sense. My grandfather went there, it was closer to Stars Hollow, I could go home at weekends…….."

"You could see Jess," he finished for her.

"I didn't pick it because of him," she insisted. "Even though he had calculated the exact distance from Stars Hollow. It was everything- it just made sense."

" I understand. You didn't want to leave Paris."

She giggled. "I wasn't sure she'd survive- no, I wasn't sure Yale would survive. And I wasn't sure I'd survive if I chose Harvard after she didn't get in."

"Does it still make sense?"

"Are you asking me to transfer?"

"No."

He was emphatic and she looked hurt.

"Obviously we both had reasons for choosing the colleges we did. Doesn't mean we can't be together."

"But we won't be together."

"Weekends, holidays- I know you know how that thing you keep staring at works," he added with a grin, snaring the phone from her outstretched fingers.

"Do you think that's enough?"

She was careful not to look at him, hoping he wouldn't notice the fear in her eyes. She was pretty sure neediness was the last thing he wanted.

He sighed. "It's not perfect. But we'll have to deal with it. I'd rather be with you every day when you wake up, walk you to classes, distract you from studying……….."

"Maybe it's for the best then……….."

She was playful now, trying to lighten the mood again. If she was honest this was what was keeping her awake at night, not the endless wondering about her mother. And father. And Luke. She just wasn't ready to admit any of it- and if she couldn't talk to him about it she couldn't be sure they'd make it through the first few weeks back at college.

"I can't do this when you're at Yale," he muttered, leaning in to kiss her.

"I like hearing your voice on the phone," she said suddenly when at last he pulled away.

"You haven't had much opportunity yet. Something to look forward to," he said ironically.

She tried to smile, forcing herself to look at him and willing herself not to cry. The more time she spent with him, the more addicted she became and the harder it was to imagine going whole days, whole weeks without seeing him. It was hard to believe how this summer had started, harder still to believe there had ever been a time she'd pushed him away. He'd changed- or grown up- but she still saw the sixteen year old boy who'd tried almost everything to get her to notice him. If she'd just been prepared to acknowledge it, especially after that first kiss, maybe he'd never have had to leave. Then again she knew they'd have stood even less of a chance of staying together if they'd been together then. High school declarations of love rarely lasted the first semester of college. Hell, she and Jess hadn't even made it through graduation and that hadn't exactly been the plan in her perfectly ordered life.

"Rory. Are you ok?"

"I just- I worry that we won't make it."

"I know what you mean."

She stared at him. "That wasn't what I wanted to hear."

"I'm sorry. I just mean- none of this seems very real. How do I fit into your real world? Right now you're on vacation. There's no Paris to contend with, you're hardly speaking to your best friend, your Mom's been out of range for days and you can't talk to her or your dad or even Luke. And your grandparents have separated and that certainly doesn't seem very real."

"What about you?" She was almost cross now. "I haven't seen you trying to catch up with any of your friends. You have a family you can just about bear to spend breakfast with and apart from your grandfather- and me- who is there?"

He pushed a hand back through his hair and surveyed her.

"This summer is the happiest I've ever been. Being with you- being needed by you- matters more to me than anything. And I couldn't have gone back to my family if I hadn't needed to be near you. But we have to fit into some kind of reality sometime."

"I guess. I don't do unplanned well. And this-" she gestured between them "feels like a high wire act without the net."

"Doesn't that just mean it's real? And maybe that we're a bit dysfunctional?"

He dodged her attempted slap. "Did you make a pro/con list before you came to see me at that party?"

"No," she admitted. "I didn't have to. Then again, I haven't made many lists recently. I'm not sure the carpe diem idea really suits me."

He'd thought she was over talking about Dean. He'd thought he was over the reminders of him as well. But he couldn't help the clench of his jaw and the tension that crept into his frame as he turned away from her.

She'd become pretty good at reading him, though, and he didn't get to move far before her hands crept round his chest and she laid her head on his back.

"I didn't mean- him," she said softly.

He turned back to her, smirk suddenly back in place. Funny that now it could make her literally weak at the knees, when she'd spent so many days at Chilton wanting to wipe it clear off his face.

"Well then, Miss Gilmore, I'd say it suits you quite well. Turning up in my room that day- well, that was a fine example of seizing the day."

His fingers had tangled in her hair as his lips made their way to her earlobe and then her neck, punctuating his words with kisses. He'd always wanted to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, although the words and pictures in his head hadn't always been so PG. He certainly remembered being caught in the midst of one particularly graphic daydream back at Chilton- one that had been almost enough to make even him blush.

This time it was her phone that stopped them, permeating the fuzziness that was starting to creep over both of them. She sat up abruptly, face flushed, reaching out for her phone.

"Mom?"

"Hey kid."

Lorelai sounded subdued, though that was hardly unexpected or even undeserved.

"You want to tell me what's going on?"

"I needed to tell your Dad about Luke."

"And?"

"And he asked me to marry him."

"And you said?"

"I said I don't know."

Rory was silent.

"I mean, I've said no before and it's never worked out between us and I've known it wouldn't- and now it's more complicated because there's Luke, but Chris is your father- and, well, I don't know."

"What about Sherry?"

"She's gone. Really gone this time. But even before Sherry it didn't work. The only thing we've ever got right was you."

"What about Luke? He's not just some complication."

"No- but Chris is Chris. I've never been able to leave him completely in the past- and because he's your dad I'll never be able to leave him behind completely either. How can that work with Luke?"

"I don't know. But you need to decide, Mom. Dad or Luke. Luke doesn't deserve what you're doing to him. And with Dad you're in this endless circle that even when something good comes along you go running back to him so you can mess it up."

"That's not how it is."

"No? Then what did you do with Max?"

"It should never have been Max."

"Well then should it ever have been Luke?"

Lorelai was silent.

"Call me when you've decided. There's no point otherwise."

She ended the call and tossed the phone onto the coffee table, turning back to Tristan.

"Where were we?" she asked with a smile as brittle as it was bright.

"Right about here," he said, pulling her back into his arms so that she was resting against his chest and kissing her gently on the top of the head.

"And just so you know, even when I'm not there, we're still right about here."

Despite all the drama she started to giggle. "That made no sense whatsoever. Good thing I chose Yale instead of Harvard. They speak English there."

"You know exactly what I mean."

She relaxed against him, snuggling closer. "Yes."

Maybe she had a safety net after all.


End file.
